


Toll for the Brave

by BestHandwriting



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4854557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestHandwriting/pseuds/BestHandwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world’s at war, and his whole plan’s turned to shambles, but someday, someday, Harklight’s going to achieve his dream. </p><p>The story of Harklight Escalus, and how he rose from the third class to being an esteemed Knight of Vers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act One: Valediction

The dusty skies never quite suited child’s play, but the Versian third class children always ran around outside without the slightest of cares. The shambles they called houses held nothing but warmth to them, while the dirt fields they called playgrounds built their hopeful imaginations.

To most, the sight might have been heartwarming. But to Harklight, it’s another reminder of Vers’s cruelty.

At 11 years young, such thoughts should not come so easily to him as he watches the children play from the meeting hall’s stone roof. He shouldn’t be up there either, considering it’s the older kids’ haunt, but they let him stay anyways. And even if they don’t like it, they’re too caught up in their card games and secrets to bother sending him away.

Today, though, no one joins him up there but Farrow, Harklight’s closest friend (and only, if he is to be particularly candid). It’s another dusty day, but they have never been deterred by poor air quality.

“Hey, Hark, pass the water!” Farrow throws a lazy half-grin his way, one arm outstretched. Harklight presses the bottle into the open hand without a second thought, but not before swiping another sip. “Say, this blows, doesn’t it.”

“What do you mean?” Everything’s rather horrible on Vers, especially for the third class citizens. For all Harklight knows, Farrow could be talking about something frivolous.

“All of this. The food, the towns, everything. We have nothing, yet the people on Earth get to live in the lap of luxury without even realizing it.” Farrow takes a swig of water rather angrily as he continues. “I just wish I stood a chance at being a member of the Orbital Knights. They won’t even look at someone like us, even though we’re the ones who should be getting vengeance on the filthy Terrans.”

“You don’t know!” Harklight tries to smile, but it’s hard. He understands all too well. “If you work hard and prove you’re smart, they can’t pass you over!”

Farrow chuckles at that, but it’s not his light-hearted laugh. It’s that awful cynical one, the one that sends shivers down Harklight’s spine and makes him wonder how far they’ve fallen if even the nice ones hate their world. “I’m not bright enough for them. No, I don’t stand a chance in the slightest.”

His smile softens a little as he stares Harklight right in the eye. Harklight can’t help but stay caught in that glassy brown gaze. There’s no fire behind it, only the light dancing on the surface in a way that reminds him of stars. “Hark, I bet you could do it. You could be a soldier for one of the Orbital Knights. Heck, maybe you could be one of their knights with your smarts.”

Harklight laughs at Farrow’s words, but a part of him warms with pride. “Don’t be silly. I won’t do it without you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just wait a few years. You’ll be finishing the entrance exam with top marks and leaving me behind, I know it!” Farrow rustles Harklight’s carefully-styled hair, and Harklight grins. It’s so nice, being up there together. It’s their own little world, and nothing will change for them, never.

Harklight knows it.

The years pass like the last refrain of a music box. Their smiles fade into perpetual frowns; even Farrow can’t hold much hope for the future anymore.

They still meet on that roof, watching the children kick up clouds of dirt absentmindedly. “Hey, Farrow?”

“Hm?” Farrow cocks his head, and dusty brown hair falls into his eyes. “What is it, Hark?”

“I don’t get it. Why doesn’t anyone try and help us?”

The somber expression on Farrow’s face does nothing to reassure him. “The upper classes don’t see what they don’t want to see. You know that.”

“Yeah.” Harklight falls silent, his hands grasping at the settled dust. As it runs through his fingers, some of it coats his hands in a layer of filth. “I just… I wish I could help them.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll join the Orbital Knights together, right?” He holds out a hand towards Farrow.

With a soft smile gracing gentle lips, Farrow takes it in his. “Of course, Hark. We’ll take on the world.”

But for all the bravado puts on, they both know the unspoken words. _I don’t know if we can do that anymore._

And when the recruitment day arrives, Farrow waits for him right at the front of the line. They enter together, they test together, and they leave alone.  
They both know only one will be on the list of selectees.

As the ceremony of names begins, Farrow shoots one last thumbs up at Harklight. _I_ _have faith in you._  Harklight closes his eyes and smiles. This is it, the moment his parents have conditioned him for for his whole life. He cannot let them down now.

“Harklight Escalus.”

The smile widens until the silence hits him. His name is last on the list. Farrow isn’t enlisted.

A heavy sensation sinks in his chest, and he opens his eyes to catch Farrow’s gaze. Farrow sends a grin his way, but the disappointment shining on the surface of his dull eyes speaks the truth. There is no together anymore.

Harklight must bear the burden of saving the third class alone.

Though tears begin to well in his eyes, he forces himself to stand tall. This is his duty to his parents, to his fellow citizens, to Farrow. He will rise through the ranks and see their conditions bettered if that’s the last thing he does.

And when the ceremony finishes, Harklight avoids the congratulations to claim his training uniform. He’ll just say his goodbyes later, after everything’s been taken care of.

If only he’d known he’d never have a chance to say good-bye.

They sit the hopefuls in a classroom day after day on the way to the Landing Castles. Harklight’s never seen a class designed to scare people out of enlisting as much as that one, but he keeps persisting.

He conquers hand-to-hand training by building a dummy out of pillows to practice on in his spare time, even though the other trainees jeer at him. And when others spend time socializing, he sneaks in to practice more on the skycraft and ship simulators. It’s only the servantly duties that give him trouble, but the teacher never minds Harklight’s efforts to cater to her every whim.

And as the weeks pass, Harklight watches his class rank move ever higher, until the last day of class.

“Congratulations to Harklight Escalus, the head of this year’s enlisting class.” The selectees applaud politely, all thirteen that managed to withstand the unbearable pressures placed upon them. “Count Saazbaum himself has selected you to join his ranks. We wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

That night, Harklight writes his first letter home. It’s not anything long, but it tells enough to satisfy even his parents. They’ll be proud, he’s sure. Their precious son, top of the enlistment class and a member of Count Saazbaum’s ranks.

It seems surreal to Harklight, but at sixteen years young, he’s finally taken a step towards his dream.

For Farrow, for his family, for all of them back home, he won’t give up now.

_I'll see our dreams become reality._

Almost immediately, Count Saazbaum takes a liking to Harklight. From their cordial introduction, Harklight finds himself at the Count’s side more and more until he starts receiving weird stares from the other soldiers.

Harklight doesn’t understand. He’s just done his job as a soldier, serving the count, so why should it be strange he’s favored?

It isn’t until he’s confronted one night in the dorms that he understands.

“Filthy peasant.” The fists fly too close to Harklight’s face for his liking, but he’s able to dodge every one thrown his way. “How could they let scum like you become a soldier? Go back to the dirt you came from.” One of the others grabs his collar, and it’s all over.

Pain erupts in his cheek, his chin, his side until it all blurs together into an indistinguishable mess of agony. “I bet the only reason Count Saazbaum favors you is your looks. That’s all scum like you are good for as soldiers, tending to their needs in bed. How’s he look there, whore?”

Harklight struggles to keep his head high as the gang leader spits in his face. The others howl in the background at their leader’s words, and it’s enough to make any other person cower in shame.

But Harklight’s not any other person. He’s the pride of the lower classes, and he’ll save them, no matter what people do to him. “Maybe you should see for yourself.” He allows himself a smirk as he continues, despite knowing the consequences. “And don’t forget to tell me all the details afterwards. I’ve heard he’s very attractive in bed, and I’d to know if that’s true.”

His cheek earns him another punch to the face.

“Shut up! Shut the hell up, trash-” His words are cut off as strong hands pull the leader off of Harklight.

“What the hell do you soldiers think you’re doing?” Relief floods Harklight as a familiar man steps into view. Saazbaum holds no mercy in his stern gaze, directed only at the perpetrators. “Attacking another comrade? You ought to be ashamed.”

“We’re sorry, sir!” The leader gets on his knees to grovel, but it’s far too late. Saazbaum lands a solid kick across the leader’s head, and the man goes flying. The others rush to his side, varying degrees of concern etched onto their once cruel faces.

“Consider that a warning. If I catch you injuring your fellow soldiers again, you won’t get off so easily.” The others stare up at him, not moving. “I’d suggest you leave.”

“Yes sir!” A chorus of salutes follows before they hastily scramble out of the room.

As the door shuts behind them, Saazbaum turns his attention back to Harklight and offers a softer smile.

“Did they hurt you badly?”

Though Harklight’s body aches, he shakes his head. He’ll be fine. He’s recovered from worse than a couple of bruises before. “I’m fine, sir.” He manages to bow, even as he slumps against the wall.

“Let me at least get you to the infirmary to check you out.” To Harklight’s amazement, Saazbaum helps him to his feet and even allows him to lean on him the whole walk to the infirmary.

The quick examination reveals nothing broken or cracked, only a mottle of bruises and a minor concussion to show for the encounter. Even so, they insist Harklight spends the night, just in case.

Saazbaum sits by his side for a while, long enough that Harklight finally gains the courage to ask his lingering question. “Sir, why do you keep me in your company so much?”

The question catches the count off-guard, but he composes himself quickly. “You’re a rarity among the Orbital Knights. You don’t care just about yourself; you care about Vers’s people. Heaven knows there’s not enough of them.”

“Then do you wish to help the lower classes too?”

“Of course. I will see they no longer want for anything, no matter the cost.” There’s something about Saazbaum’s smile that sets him on edge, something he won’t fully understand until years later. “Will you join me in my crusade, Harklight?”

“Of course, Milord. I would do anything if it ensured my people could live better.”

“Then meet me in the right wing tomorrow night at 8.”

At 8 o’clock the next evening, Harklight presses a hand against the panel by the right wing’s door. Unlike the other times he’s tried, it opens.

To his disappointment, another dull hallway meets him. But at the end, there’s a set of double doors wide open. Surely the count waits for him there.

And when he enters, his breath hitches. A young girl, perhaps twelve years old at most, resides in a wheelchair right near the starry window. But from the moment he sees her, he knows. She’s someone important, blessed even.

“Who is it?” she calls out, not turning back. “Saazbaum, is that you?”

Nervously, Harklight replies, “No, er…, it’s Harklight, miss.”

The girl turns around her chair faster than he ever thought possible. “Harklight? Someone new?” Her sweet faces lights with amazement as she takes him in as he stands rather foolishly in the doorframe. “A soldier! Wow, I thought he’d never let me see one of them!”

She wheels up towards him before he realizes it would be polite to go down to her. “You’re young, handsome, too. My name’s Lemrina. Lemrina Vers Envers.”

 _Vers Envers_ … Harklight drops to one knee and bows. “My apologies… your highness?”

“Please just call me Lemrina, Harklight.” Lemrina still grins, her chest puffed out in pride. “I’m not much of a princess, anyways. My father slept with a Terran woman, can you believe that? And that’s why I’m here, stuck in hiding because I’m a disabled disgrace of a child. But that’s enough about me. Who are you?”

“I’m Harklight Escalus. I’m just a mere soldier from the lower class. It’s an honor to meet you.” He doesn’t allow himself to get up from the bow; he’s supposed to be a loyal soldier.

“Please, stand up, Harklight.” At her command, he does so. “Does Saazbaum know you’re here?”

He nods. “I think so. He was the one who told me to come here.”

She visibly deflates. “What a shame. I was hoping you had snuck in. Then maybe we could have had some epic romance, all that sweeping the princess off her feet, you know?” She sighs, pressing her head to the hand resting on the arm rest. “It’s just not fair. Why does Asseylum get all the parading? I’m a princess too. Maybe if I weren’t crippled, I’d be of some use-“

“I’m sure there’s a use for you. We just haven’t found it yet.”

Harklight’s words stun them both. Why would he say such a thing to a girl he’s just met? But his words seem to do her good; Lemrina smiles again. She’s rather pretty, though not his type. He could see her charming the whole empire when she’s older, leaving a trail of men following behind her wheelchair for a chance to woo her.

“Thank you, Harklight. You’re very kind.”

Harklight’s cheeks grow warm, but he cannot think of a response. In the end, all he says is, “I hope to see you again soon, your majesty, but I must get going.” Saazbaum isn’t here, despite his insistence that Harklight should meet him in the right wing.

He bows again before he leaves, even as she cries, “Please just call me Lemrina!” But as he turns towards the open doorway, she adds a little quieter, “And come back again, won’t you?”

The loneliness in her voice brings him back on his off-evenings. Sometimes, Saazbaum actually shows up and spends time with her as well. Those nights, he gets more of the full story.

Lemrina was born to a Terran mother in the aftermath of Heaven’s Fall, tended to by a Terran family that Saazbaum happened to be staying with at the time. Saazbaum took her back to his Landing Castle after recovering from his own wounds from the incident. Ever since then, she had lived with him as the closest thing to a father as she had.

But from the carefully selected words she uses, Harklight can understand the actual situation. Saazbaum had tried his best with her, but he could not be her parent. Hers had died when she was too young to remember them, and she was left without a home. She was left without anywhere to turn, another ostracized victim of the Vers Empire.

In some ways, Harklight sees himself in her.

But in others, she is so drastically different he can’t understand. She hardly understands the concepts of family, home, even love. He, on the other hand, knows them all too well. That’s why he keeps moving forward, he tells himself. He has to ensure their futures, ones spent enjoying life instead of wearing down in the cogs of the lower Vers Empire.

He does not grow to love her, but perhaps admire her. She holds up after all the hell she’s been forced through, and she keeps pushing through life.  
But all the same, he watches sweet eagerness turn into jadedness.

“I wish you wouldn’t come, Harklight.” Lemrina crosses her arms, and she doesn’t even look at him. He stands there, not saying anything. She gets like this more and more, and he’s learned enough to know it’s better not to speak. “Leave, Harklight! I hate you! I hate you!”

She starts to cry, and it’s all he can do to not run out of the room, let alone comfort her. Even so, he tries his best, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder until she finally calms down.

Finally, she composes herself enough to continue, her voice raw. “Why do you always have to come and spend time with me, only to leave me alone again? Do you not care about me? ”

“I care a lot about you, Lemrina,” The words come to him more naturally than he expects, and he continues before he thinks too much and screws things up, “but the lower class Versians need me more. You know as well as I do how the nobles can be towards those they don’t care for much.”

“I know, I know. But I wish… I wish I weren’t so alone. I wish I could be someone they’d all love and admire, not just you.” She looks up with those weary eyes that don’t fit a 14 year old girl, letting out a sigh. “Saazbaum’s moving me to the Moon Base tomorrow. You have to keep in contact with me, okay?”

“I will do my best,” He vows, no matter how empty a promise it is. “Take care, princess.”

On his way back to the dorm, Saazbaum catches him. “I’d like you to go to the Moon Base with Lemrina to keep her company and serve her needs, Harklight.”

“Yes sir.”

“The shuttle leaves at 8 tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

“Yes sir.”

Instead of the sleep Harklight expected, he ends up spending his night packing away enough to keep him stocked up at the Moon Base for a while. Saazbaum didn’t specify how long he would be there. For all he knows, it is a permanent assignment change.

Princess Lemrina meets him by the shuttle in disguise. She tries to appear uninterested, but her eyes dart around the area incessantly. Even after they arrive on the Moon Base, Lemrina’s exhilaration doesn’t fade. Her eyes shine brighter than usual, even if they aren’t the usual blue he knows.

He tries not to hold the same curiosity; it’s not fitting for a soldier. But despite his best efforts, he still spares a few awed glances at the interior. It’s not anything special, but it’s something new.

They end up settling into one wing of the base, much like hers on the Landing Castle except in its size. Here, she has more room to explore, more people to meet so long as she stays disguised.

It’s perfect for someone like her, he thinks, even if it’s not right for him.  
Sure, his dorm’s great, a little more spacious and without another occupant for the time being. If it were different times, he could get used to this luxury (his room on the castle held three other soldiers, none of whom were particularly friendly), but he can’t now.

For as nice as it is, all Harklight wants to do is go back to the Landing Castle. At least there, he can pretend he’s getting closer to achieving his goals.

But the day after Lemrina’s moved dorm, they all sit in front of the holographic screens, watching Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia’s first encounter with Earth. People line the streets, smiling and waving as the bulletproof limousines pass by.

Screams erupt at the sight of missiles crossing the cameras. And as the very streets explode in front of their eyes, Harklight clenches his armrest hard enough his hand burns with agony.

It’s all wrong. Surely this is all some horrible dream, and he’ll wake up to find Princess Asseylum is still alive for her people.

But to his dismay, not even an hour later, Count Saazbaum interrupts the live coverage.

“Our Princess Asseylums’s heartfelt wish for peace has been mercilessly crushed by a violent act of the treacherous Terrans!”

As Count Saazbaum throws out his arm, too many of the soldiers around Harklight shout in agreement.

“We subjects of the Vers Empire must resolutely bring down the hammer of righteousness in response to this atrocity committed by Old Humanity!”

This time, they cheer. Horror weighs heavily on Harklight’s mind as he watches them. How can they be so eager to go to war over an assassination? What of the resources they will waste and the third class citizens they will work past the bone? How can they condone fighting with that?

“Hear me, proud knights of Mars! The time has come! The grand task that has spanned generations, the Earthfall Operation, will now be carried out with justice on our side!”

The screen cuts out, but the determined cries amplify too loud.

Harklight closes his eyes as war unfolds around him.

If they fought, perhaps…

Harklight finds his heart pounding right along with the shouting.

If they win, his people could have resources, never fearing starvation again.

But for every Versian it’ll save, there will be deaths on the battlefield to achieve it. If Harklight had been on the Landing Castle, would he have been among those ranks?

Horrible, treasonous thoughts arise in the back of his mind. Did Saazbaum know what was coming? And if he did, did he purposefully take Harklight out of the line of danger?

He shakes his head to try and dissipate those thoughts. It must be pure coincidence. There’s no way Saazbaum could have known. Didn’t some lowly Terrans off the princess? That’s what they had said. It only made sense; they never liked Martians much.

But the coincidence still lingers, even after they return to their duties, even after Princess Lemrina whispers her horrible relief that Princess Asseylum’s dead through her grief.

Princess Asseylum’s goodwill visit had been planned for months. It would have been easy for Count Saazbaum to know the date, and even easier to plan an operation.

Though they try to keep it quiet, everyone knows Vers sends spies to infiltrate Earth. And though no one ever speaks of it, they also know only the third class citizens go. 

How much would it take to convince one of them to kill their Princess? A comfortable life, knighthood, wealth?

How much would it have taken for Harklight to do the same?

No matter how hard he tries, those wretched questions plague him as the war continues.

Did Count Saazbaum know of the assassination, or…

Did Count Saazbaum authorize it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered what Harklight's backstory was since the anime doesn't give us much. But before I knew it, a simple backstory turned into Harklight's life story, and Toll to the Brave was made.
> 
> I hope to update weekly.


	2. Act Two: Enter Slaine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for scars/mentioned torture.

As the war progresses, news reaches the Moon Base sporadically. A meteor bombardment that hit Count Crutheo’s Landing Castle. Trillram, Femmianne, Vlad, all destroyed in the fighting. Rumors of an orange kataphrakt, destroying the Versian kataphraktoi one by one.

Count Saazbaum’s reports grow ever wearier as the war progresses, but Harklight still cannot ignore his doubts. Saazbaum’s potential role in the assassination weighs too heavily on his conscious to leave alone.

For once in his life, Harklight appreciates his third-class background as he sneaks through the hallways like a street rat, listening for rumors.

There’s not much to hear. Any talks of conspiracy quickly dissipate or end behind closed doors, far from Harklight’s ears. Though it’s a dead end route, he still doesn’t give up.  It’s not as if there is much for him to do beyond that. Battles have not breached space yet, and if they did, Harklight doesn’t have the proper authority to pilot anything more than a transport craft.

And as for Princess Lemrina, Harklight can only spend so much time with her before she expects things he can’t provide.

Only one rumor catches his attention in his searching. As he swings by the main information base one evening, two soldiers whisper of a servant who defected from the Vers side to join the Terrans. But to his disappoint, they disappear before he can hear any more.

Harklight cannot understand why anyone would switch to the Terrans’ side. Even if the war comes at too steep a price, shouldn’t they die with honor for their original empire? And besides, the Versians would win the war soon enough. They just got off to a rough start, thanks to their grief over the princess.

The lies don’t even sound convincing in his own head.

But for all his thoughts, everything he ever thought true disintegrates with the arrival of the Tharsis at the Moon Base.

He can hardly fathom it; Crutheo died days ago.

Even so, Harklight’s among the first to meet the kataphraktos. He watches in perplexity as they drag three figures from the cockpit.

As he takes in the sight, Harklight can’t catch his breath. One is Saazbaum, bloodied to the brink of unconsciousness. Another, the dead princess Asseylum Vers Allusia, lays pale as death in one of those wretched Terran suits.

And the last, he’s the only one who can stand on his own. The pilot stands watching with dead eyes, dressed in a soldier’s uniform stained red with others’ blood. His startling blue-green eyes take in the room like someone much older than him, though what they look for, Harklight hasn’t a clue.

Harklight’s never seen the soldier, but from the moment he sees him, however inexplicable the thought is, he’s certain that the soldier was the one accused of switching sides.

But before Harklight can process his observations, Saazbaum weakly calls out, “Harklight… Get her to the doctors.”

Harklight moves faster than he thought possible, scooping the girl up off the ground with cautious arms. The soldier makes a move of protest, but Saazbaum soothes him with a feeble grip on his ankle.

“Don’t let her die,” the soldier growls, his eyes shining with fear and worry and all sorts of emotions that have long since died in most soldiers. It’s only then that it occurs to Harklight how young the soldier is. He’s younger that Harklight, sixteen he’d guess at the oldest, yet he’s been through so much more.

Harklight has no words to say, but the soldier’s desperation drags a genuine response out of him. “We’ll try our best.” Harklight leaves without a second thought, but even after the doctors take Asseylum, the soldier lingers in his mind.

Saazbaum shows up at the infirmary soon enough, helped by the soldier. He offers a thin smile, marred by age-old weariness and defeat, to Harklight before he pulls his arm off the soldier to stumble in on his own.

Harklight and the soldier are left alone outside. The man -no, a boy, Harklight thinks, he’s only a boy like him- slumps to the ground as if every last bit of strength disappears within him. For far too long, he stares at his hands, taking in all the blood that stains them.

The urge to shelter those hands captures Harklight for the first time. _There’s no need to dwell on what’s past_ , he imagines saying. _You did your best._ But he does not; he’s never met the boy before today. He should have no obligation to provide comfort. But still, he stays standing beside the boy in tense quiet, waiting for something to break. 

Muffled sobs fill the hallway; Harklight can’t bear to look down and see the tears. All he can do is shut his eyes, waiting for something to change.

But as much as he tries to convince himself that waiting is the best decision, he can’t just wait for calm. He steels himself as he sinks down next to the boy, placing a gentle handle on crying soldier’s shoulder. Even if Harklight isn’t good at offering support, he has to at least try.

The touch startles the soldier, and he looks up at Harklight with those beautiful eyes, glassy with tears.

“She’ll live,” Harklight tries to reassure the soldier. “I know it. They won’t let her die now.”

Relief brings a hopeful light to the boy’s eyes. “I hope so.” Harklight freezes up as the soldier leans into his touch, not quite sure what to make of it. He’s never met the boy before this day, yet it’s oddly comfortable to be in his presence. In the end, he relaxes as the boy’s head falls onto his shoulder.

They stay like that in silence until Harklight loses track of the time and the boy falls asleep. Tear tracks still mar the boy’s face, long since dried, and one of Harklight’s hands lays tangled in the boy’s soft hair, an ash-blond color that wouldn’t be out of place among the third-class citizens.

There’s something about the soldier, something about his delicate features and innocent expression that reminds Harklight too much of home. He can almost imagine another age, back when he was young and still held hopes a few years as a soldier was all it took to change society. He had sat like this back then with Farrow, and everything had seemed to make sense.

_I haven’t forgotten our promise. I will see to the elevation of third class citizens. So wait for me, Farrow, family, everyone. I’ll save us all._

The vow doesn’t explain Harklight’s actions as he takes the weary soldier back to his own personal quarters to sleep. And as he sits by the bedside, watching to make sure none of that blood actually belongs to the soldier, he finally finds rest, leaning on the bedside.

Why does he care about the soldier’s wellbeing? He’s just another casualty of war, a war for the betterment of Vers.

Though he can’t quite explain why, Harklight gets the feeling the boy understands. They aren’t so different, boys who started serving young. Children who cared with all their hearts for the ones dear to him, willing to pay any price for their happiness…

Later, Saazbaum enters the room, all bandaged up, and shows the boy a sight not meant for Harklight. But still, he knows; how could he not? The soldier will find Asseylum Vers Allusia’s unconscious form and mourn once more.

When the room empties, Harklight moves to the bed and dreams. A disarray of memories pass before his eyes, flashes of scenes that leave him longing for home more than he has in a long time.

And when he finally meets Count Saazbaum again, Harklight is hardly surprised to find the boy at his side. In the count’s hand lays a charcoal uniform; the mark of a knight, Harklight remembers. “Harklight, will you please hold this?”

Obediently, Harklight takes the jacket into his arms. It’s far too small to belong to anyone serving as a knight, but from the ceremonial sword at Count Saazbaum’s side, it will belong to one soon enough.

“Slaine Troyard, will you please kneel in front of me?” Count Saazbaum’s lips curl up into a faint smile as the boy kneels in front of him in the classic Versian display of respect. “Do you vow to serve as my unwavering vassal?”

“I do.”

“Do you vow to dedicate yourself to the betterment of Vers and all its citizens?”

The response comes a little slower this time. “I do.”

“Do you vow to dedicate your life in servitude of my orders and those of the empire?”

Slaine grits his teeth a little. For a moment, Harklight thinks he’ll refuse, but the soldier surprises him. “I do.”

Count Saazbaum pulls the sword out of its sheath, resting it in proper procedure for a few seconds on each of Slaine’s shoulders. “Then rise, Sir Slaine Troyard, sworn knight of mine, and good hunting.”

Sir Slaine stands up, his gaze unreadable. He barely spares Harklight a glance before turning towards the door.

Before he can leave, the count calls out, “Wait, Slaine.”

Sir Slaine stops, only turning his head back to acknowledge Count Saazbaum. “What is it?” His tone is icy calm, an eerie contrast to his delicate features.

“From this day forth, Harklight Escalus will be your servant.” Harklight’s breath hitches at Count Saazbaum’s words. To be a personal servant to a knight is one of the highest honors for a soldier like him, a position he never could have expected at such a young age.

Without thinking, Harklight drops to his knee and bows. “You honor me, sir. I resolve to do my best.”

“And I would expect nothing less of you. Spend some time to get acquainted. I’ll see the both of you in my study at 8.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Count Saazbaum’s left, the room falls into an awkward silence. Harklight can’t think of anything to say. It’s not as if he can bring up their first meeting without causing his new master to recall unpleasant memories.

If there’s any reassurance, it’s that Sir Slaine rocks back and forth on his heels, equally hesitant. “So, Mr… Escalus, was it?”

“There is no need to be so formal with me… Master. You may just call me Harklight.” The honorific sounds strange on his tongue, unfit for someone so young and delicate-looking. He forces himself to push aside the distaste. Eventually, he will get used to it.

“You don’t have to call me that, Mr. Harklight. Slaine is fine.”

Harklight’s stunned into silence. It’s probably the kindest thing a superior’s said to him, but Harklight tries to not get his hopes up. Once his master knows that his servant is from the third class, there’s no way the kindness will continue. “I… I couldn’t possibly... Would Milord Slaine be better?”

His words manage to draw a weak smile out of Sir Slaine. “Not really, but for now, I suppose it will work.”

Odd as it is, Harklight relaxes enough to voice a few of his thoughts. “You’re awfully young to be a knight. They won’t let anyone join the Orbital Knights until they’re sixteen, and that’s as the lowest-ranked soldier.”

“They made a special exception with me.” Sir Slaine’s monotone catches Harklight off-guard. Being granted an exception would be an opportunity most third-class citizens would kill for.

There was one such family from home, the Areashes, that took a knight’s offer of knighthood in return for an assassination. The daughter, a girl named Rayet, would have been the youngest knight in history had she been knighted not long after she left.

What ever became of them? They were nice enough, despite their reservations.

Harklight pushes the memories out of his mind. A family he’ll probably never see again is the last of his concerns, especially when his superior expects a response. “You must be quite talented, then.”

“It wasn’t talent that got me the exception.” Sir Slaine frowns, averting his gaze. “What part of Vers are you from?”

Harklight doesn’t miss the sudden subject change, but he barely gets a chance to question it before his question sinks in. Sir Slaine’s asking him the one question he fears answers. Shutting his eyes, he speaks the dreaded words with silent prayer. “I’m from Isidis.”

“Isidis… one of the impoverished regions, correct?” Harklight nods, unable to bear looking at Sir Slaine even after he opens his eyes. “So you’re a third class-citizen, not some noble.”

“I apologize if this displeases you.” It’s demeaning, but Harklight bows politely. He’s never had a problem with his less fortunate heritage, yet it’s all people seem to care about when they meet him. _Oh, he’s that third class soldier Count Saazbaum took in. I don’t know why he bothered. Nothing will ever come of scum like that._

“Don’t apologize.” Harklight stands straight up, gazing on Sir Slaine with wonder. Acceptance of a third class soldier is almost unheard of, Count Saazbaum being a rare exception to the rule. “It’s better this way.” Harklight tries to voice his concerns, but he’s cut off by Slaine’s quiet words. “I’m a Terran by birth.”

Harklight gapes, disbelieving. Sir Slaine Troyard, a Terran? There was no way someone even lower than the third class could possibly be a knight. No third class citizen had ever been a knight, let alone a Terran. He laughs a bit, but the awkwardness doesn’t settle. “You surprise me, Milord. You are most adept at humor.”

Sir Slaine gives him a strange look, those bright eyes clouded. “My father was Dr. Troyard, the Terran who researched Aldnoah. We came to Mars when I was twelve.”

“Oh.” Harklight’s heard the stories of Dr. Troyard. It was the kind of story that seemed surreal to him when he was younger. They would never let a Terran study Aldnoah, but it made a nice tale. Overcome the odds, be some sort of legend, achieve the impossible.

The sudden verity is almost too much to handle. “I know, scorn me like the rest of them, Mr. Harklight. I won’t hate you for it.”

“How… how could I hate you?” Harklight bows his head again, worried his answer may have been a little too candid. “I am hardly better by Vers’s standards, Milord.”

“Lift your head.” As Harklight looks up, his eyes wide with awe, Sir Slaine adds as a polite afterthought, “Please.” There’s a melancholic smile on his knight’s face, aged too far beyond his years.

Harklight can’t help but wonder what made such a young, innocent-looking child into a world-weary knight.

But for all his curiosity, he doesn’t want to know.

The leering Harklight’s way, the torment when Count Saazbaum wasn’t looking, that was horrible enough. He was just a third class-citizen, not unheard of in a soldier’s position. And if nothing else, he was steeled enough to take their insults and punches without breaking down completely.

He can’t imagine how much worse it would be for a Terran boy, not even old enough for normal recruitment.

“You can be dismissed for the rest of the day, Mr. Harklight.” Sir Slaine stiffens up, more reserved than before.

“But…” Harklight shuts his mouth. Insubordination on the first day of servitude is disgraceful. “As you wish, Milord. I can still come and get you for the 8 o’clock meeting with Count Saazbaum if you so desire.”

“That would be most appreciated.”

Later that night, after Count Saazbaum meets with them and ensures their new bond with hold securely, Harklight sits himself in front of a computer and researches.

_Sir Slaine Troyard, 16, 170 cm._

_Born in Norway, Earth, to Kiara and Julian Troyard. Parents divorced when he was two; his father took custody after a lengthy fight in the courts._

_Crash-landed on Vers with his father when he was 12._

_Tutored  Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia on Terran culture for a few months prior to his position as the personal servant to Count Crutheo for four years._

_Now serves as Knight under Count Saazbaum._

It’s all impersonal, simple facts that do little to bring a sullen knight to life, but Harklight understands just a little bit better. He’s as much of an outsider as Harklight, torn away from his home planet at such a tender aged.

It would almost have been better if Sir Slaine had come to Vers younger. Perhaps they might have had a chance to assimilate him into their culture enough that he could avoid the prejudices.

As Harklight shuts down the computer, he’s left more respectful than ever towards his new superior.  They’ll get along, he thinks. What better match is there for a Terran than a third-class citizen?

And as the days pass as Sir Slaine’s servant, he’s proved right, again and again. Sir Slaine, though a hard worker, cannot navigate the paperwork easily. Any other noble would turn their nose up and scoff, but Harklight patiently helps where he can.

After all, no one sat behind him to make sense of the skeevy Versian wording or to understand what papers needed to be filled and which did not.

There’s no thanks; it wouldn’t befit a knight to thank his servant. But around him, Sir Slaine’s tension fades. No longer does he send Harklight away the moment work’s done but instead keeps him around for some quiet conversation.

Harklight has too many questions he’d like to ask, but he keeps them quiet as Sir Slaine talks about frivolities. “How do you find the food, Mr. Harklight?”

The question takes Harklight aback. The food is never a topic of conversation among Versians; only the wealthiest can partake in luxuries, and even those pale by Terran standards. “It’s… it’s fine.”

“You’ve never had a chance to try Terran food, have you?” A soft frown crosses his delicate features, and Harklight rues the direction of the conversation more than ever. He’s supposed to keep his master content, leaving no room for concerns.

He’s failed again; he’s rather good at that. “No, Milord. I have not.”

“I see.” The frown grows a little deeper, and Harklight’s heart sinks even further. He’s really screwed up this time. He should have smiled and lied, just like he learned in that hell of a training class.

Soon enough, Sir Slaine will get rid of him for failing his duty; he just knows it.

But to his surprise, a few days later, Harklight finds a freeze-dried meal waiting in the kitchen for him. For a moment, he can barely breathe.

Why would Sir Slaine Troyard do something so kind for his servant? He can’t imagine what this costs, or what his master had to do to even get his hands on it. Too much for someone like Harklight to even think of considering, that was for sure.

When no one else is around, he cooks it according to directions.

It tastes like heaven, different than anything he’s ever had. It has _flavor_ , better than the dusty krill and algae that he had long since become accustomed to.

Is this what food is supposed to taste like?

And when Harklight whispers his quiet gratitude to Sir Slaine, he gets his response: _Yes._

The simple gesture breaks apart barriers between the two of them he hadn’t realized existed. Sir Slaine smiles more- no, Slaine, he doesn’t want the fancy titles but Harklight still tries to speak politely anyways- and speaks a little more honestly.

But as much as Slaine has opened up, there is still so much Harklight longs to know.

Why does Slaine never remove his jacket, not even when the heater malfunctioned and left his room like furnace?

What does he hope to achieve by moving through the ranks?

Who is he at the core? He has known Sir Slaine Troyard for months, but he has never seen simple Slaine, the seventeen year-old Terran boy who left home far too soon.

Too many nights, Harklight turns back and forth under his covers, asking endless questions and never getting an answer. Though he knows much, he knows nothing. Slaine is still as much of an enigma as he was the first day Harklight met him.

But every time he opens his mouth to ask a question, words fail him. He can’t expect answers unless he’s forgotten his obligation as a servant. Serve wholeheartedly and never wonder why, why is he worth less than a Terran in the eyes of a Versian Count.

The words finally spill out one day in the baths, late one night when Harklight slips in in hopes of getting privacy. And for a little while, he enjoys the peace.

But when the door creaks open, he instinctively jerks his head towards the door. The sight takes his breath away.

Scars, horrible, horrible red scars lace across Slaine’s chest like filigree. Hypertrophic scars, he remembers from his training days. Usually, they fade after a year or two, but these are clearly not that old.

Harklight forces himself to look away almost immediately. He can’t bear to see such violent marks mar such a young man.

“Harklight? Is that you?” Harklight nods, words failing him. “Oh.”

Water splashes up behind him, but he cannot look. He cannot face Slaine, not after what he has seen. Through his mind races thousands of questions, but he will not ask any of them. Slaine does not deserve his prying, not when he has probably tried to hide the scars for so long.

Still, one question slips his filter. “Why?”

“What… what do you mean?” Slaine replies, still defensive even in his soft voice.

“Why did they hurt you so badly?” His voice cracks as he speaks, barely able to word the question without feeling horrible guilt. It isn’t his right to know, but he can’t take the question back now.

He wants to know. He longs to understand Slaine more than anything, no matter what he tries to tell himself. He has to.

“They thought I betrayed Vers to side with the Terrans.” Bitter laughter rings through the atrium of a bath, so far from the Slaine Harklight has met so far. “They thought I helped kill the princess.”

Somewhere deep within, Harklight longs to reach out for Slaine and hold him tight even as his mind revels in the confirmations. He had been right; Slaine was the “traitor.” But at heart, he could hardly believe they ever suspected such a boy of treason, let alone murder.

Slaine Troyard was only 16 at the time, and he looked more harmless than most. How could they ever suspect him of such a heinous deed?

“But you would never-“ Harklight falls silent as Slaine laughs a little harder.

“I’ve killed before, Harklight. What do you think happened to Lord Trillram?” The revelation silences any doubts Harklight possibly had about Slaine’s past crimes.  “I would never… not to the princess, but to the rest? If it were up to me, I would let this war be settled on its own.”

“Then why…”

“The Princess wishes for peace. No matter what I have to do, I will see that she gets it.”

Harklight smiles a little. “That’s a noble dream.”

“On the contrary, it’s rather selfish, isn’t it?” Harklight steals a peek at Slaine. The younger boy smirks down at his hands, looking far too old and worn down for a mere boy. “Silencing an entire world for the sake of making one princess happy.”

“But after all you’ve suffered, don’t you deserve respite?”

Slaine shrugs before changing the subject. “What about you? Do your dreams justify serving me?”

Harklight cannot find words to respond. As much as he longs to say _yes_ , does following a boy even younger than him lead him anywhere close to helping his people? And by being a Terran, is there any chance Slaine would ever come close to having power? _No_ , he knows, but in that moment, _yes_ is all that comes to mind.

After a long while, he finally replies. “Yes, they do. Knights have more power than soldiers. If you could understand… no, never mind me.” His heart sinks as his priorities realign themselves. “I wouldn’t want to bother you with things far beyond your concerns.”

“You aren’t bothering me.” Harklight freezes, staring at Slaine incredulously. “Harklight, you aren’t bothering me by talking about your dreams. You’ve listened to mine. I just want to give the princess her peace, no matter the cost. What about you? What do you want?”

Harklight can’t help but stare at the scars crisscrossing Slaine’s chest. He has never had that much dedication to his dream, enough that he would risk death or worse. But Slaine… “Why did you take the punishment if you were innocent?”

Slaine stares at him, wide-eyed, and Harklight immediately rues his lack of censorship. Slaine asked him a question, and all he did was respond with another, too personal one. But to his amazement, the knight composes himself and answers it in an even quieter voice, “They thought the princess was dead. I was too afraid if they knew she was alive, they would try to kill her again.”

“Oh…” Harklight falls silent, no reassurances enough to soothe such horribly painful memories. But if there is anything he can do, anything at all…

Harklight smiles a little as an idea comes to mind. “Ever since I was young, I always wanted to help out my family. On Vers, if you aren’t nobility, you have very little. People work in factories all day producing weaponry, and we barely have food to eat, at least the food you grew up with. For us... we ate krill and algae mainly.”

As the tension leaves Slaine’s shoulders, Harklight sighs in relief. Still, he continues, praying that just this once, a little backstory will be of use. “Mother and Father… they had to work a lot to make ends meet. I only ever saw them on weekends… It was normal, I thought. Everyone around me lived like that. But as I grew up, I became more aware that this normal wasn’t worth living. People wore down, and nothing ever changed. Only those who got into the military made something of themselves.”

“I thought, if I joined the military, that would be me too. I could live a better life. And my parents, they made sure I had all the tools to pass the initial entrance exam. Even when I was young, they were always teaching me things when they could, and they ensured I got all the extra lessons possible. Finally, when I was 16, I was able to join.”

“But even before I joined… I don’t want to just help myself. If I could just make someone of importance listen, make them understand that our people are suffering, then maybe things will change. Maybe so much of the population won’t have to live each day trying to make ends meet. Or at least, that’s what I hope…”

Harklight sighs, watching as Slaine nods at his words. “This war could change that. If we win… maybe we’ll have the supplies for people to actually live. Earth has excess, and if we could get our hands on it… It’s selfish, I know, but following you and Saazbaum… We could have a chance.”

Slaine’s cheeks flush red, and Harklight isn’t sure whether it’s from the bath’s heat or his words. “I’ll keep your wishes in mind, Harklight.”

This time, it’s Harklight’s turn to blush. “Thank you.” For a while, they sit in silence, both cleaning themselves quietly, until Harklight notices Slaine flinch. “Would you like some help?”

Slaine’s whole face is crimson, but he manages a curt nod at Harklight. Swiftly, Harklight returns to his master’s side and washes the newly healed scars with gentle touches. Slaine never flinches, no matter how stiff his form becomes. After a few minutes, the tension dissipates with a sigh.

“You’re really good at this, Harklight.”

Harklight beams with pride. “Thank you.” Back on Vers, sometimes, he would massage his parents’ backs after a hard day’s work. His mother had taught him her tricks when she was young, back when she had the time to pass on her mother’s wisdom.

A part of him wondered who was there to massage her back now that he was gone. He had never had any siblings, though his mother and father had tried for years to change that. Maybe Farrow would help out, now that Harklight was gone. His friend had always been an honorary member of their family anyways.

But as much as he longed to reminisce, he could not afford to. Slaine needs him now, and he has no choice but to obey.

The world’s at war, and his whole plan’s turned to shambles, but someday, someday, he’s going to achieve his dream. He just knows it.

But in the back of his mind, he rewrites his dream, just a little. _Save the third-class citizens and give Slaine Troyard happiness._ Though he hasn’t a clue how he’ll manage both, he will do it. It’s his duty, to Farrow, to his family, to all of them back home, to _Slaine_.

They don’t stay in the water much longer. Slaine’s eyes droop lower by the minute until he’s fast asleep in Harklight’s arms. Though a bit embarrassed, Harklight ties a towel around Slaine’s waist and carries him back to his room like a sleeping prince. He never expected such a duty when he first learned of his servitude, but he does not mind it now, not even a little.

And when they finally get back to the room, Harklight pulls the covers up over Slaine and whispers, “Good night, Slaine.”

It’s the first time Harklight’s ever spoken the name without honorifics out loud, and he can’t help but blush. It sounds nice, light on his tongue. For a moment, he imagines speaking it over and over again, savoring the sound.

He leaves before he can think too deeply on it. Slaine is a knight, and he is a servant. There is no way such informality could be allowed between them. But later that night, thoughts of familiarity haunt him. And when he finally falls asleep, he wakes up reaching towards fading blond hair, a whisper of a name on his lips.

Too soon, he shakes his fantasies away and gets back to work. And if he devotes himself a little more wholeheartedly to Slaine’s well-being, no one mentions anything of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the months as Slaine's servant prior to the beginning of Season 2.
> 
> And if you haven't guessed by now, this is going to take somewhat of a Hasure angle to Harklight and Slaine's relationship. It won't be overly romantic, but I thought I should give you some fair warning.
> 
> In other related news, when I was figuring out where to end Act Two and begin Act Three, I noticed Act Three could be divided into two separate ones. So, would you prefer a ridiculously long Act Three (it's around 12,000 words right now) or it to be divided into two (one would be around 6,500 words, the other 5,500)?


	3. Act Three: Gravity

“Milord, I have the documents you requested.” Harklight bows to his master, who sits behind a creaky old desk with his head in his hands, looking wearier than any seventeen year-old should.

“Set them right here, Mr. Harklight.” Harklight sets them in the designated spot, but as soon as he straightens up, his posture goes back to overly stiff. Saazbaum lingers behind Slaine, and slips in formality will not go unnoticed by him. “Please, sit down.”

Harklight glides behind the desk where Slaine has set up the second chair, as per usual, and sits. But before he can think of offering assistance, Saazbaum speaks up. “Don’t mind me, Harklight. He’s just finishing up a report for me, and then I’ll be off.”

“Yes, sir.” Harklight watches Slaine sign the paper with a flourish of his pen and smiles. Slaine’s handwriting is nearly illegible, fitting for the son of a researcher. Before Slaine can even ask, Harklight snatches the paper off the desk and holds it out towards the count. “Here’s the report you needed, sir.”

“Thank you, Harklight.” For a moment, the count looks almost pleased before his serious face returns. “Have you been keeping up with your nightly duties?”

Nightly duties? Harklight keeps his confused silence until the underlying meaning dawns on him. _His visits to Princess Lemrina._ For all the time he’s spent with Slaine, he’s barely had a chance to sleep, let alone think of visiting her. “Not since becoming Sir Slaine’s personal servant. There’s been a lot of paperwork to get through.”

His forehead creases as he furrows his brows, but Saazbaum manages to reply in the same calm he always holds. “Please try to fit them into your schedule better. Neglecting duties never ends well.”

Saazbaum takes his leave as Harklight struggles to form a coherent response. When the door finally squeaks shut, Slaine glances up from the papers with questioning eyes. “You should have told me you had night duties. I would have let you go sooner so you had time.”

“No, it’s fine, Milord.” He tries for a shaky grin, but it ends up more of a grimace. As horrible a thought it is, he doesn’t regret his negligence. He’s enjoyed the increasingly late nights he’s spent working and talking with Slaine much more than he’s ever enjoyed Lemrina’s company.

When they finish work, Slaine always speaks of Earth, eyes bright and a soft smile on his lips. And in turn, he asks Harklight of Vers without a trace of hostility or snootiness in his tone. Lemrina just asks and offers little in turn, or she talks and listens little.

Though he should lie, there’s something about Slaine that always draws the truth out of Harklight. “Talking with you was well worth skipping them.”

A bright flush spreads across Slaine’s cheeks, no matter how hard he tries to cover it by focusing intently on his paperwork. “I thought I said not to call me Milord, Mr. Harklight.”

This time, Harklight smiles for real. “Then please don’t call me Mister, Milord.”

Slaine laughs, and it’s Harklight’s turn to blush. It’s such a lovely sound, Slaine’s laugh, something he could never tire of hearing. “A fair point, I suppose. So, what am I supposed to do for this column?”

Harklight spends as long as he can assisting Slaine with his paperwork, but he’s let go far too soon. “You have night duties to do, so I don’t want to keep you.”

Harklight leaves with a bow and a goodnight, and then he’s off down the familiar path towards Lemrina’s corridor. It’s been months since he’s seen her, and he’s hardly spared her a thought since. Is she still doing well?

When he finally opens the door to her room, he’s met with a loud cry of greeting. “Harklight! I thought I’d never see you again!” He opens his mouth to respond, but Lemrina’s too quick. She wheels over to him and latches on tight to him. “I missed you.”

Harklight smiles softly down at her; he’s missed her too, even if she’s not quite as good of company as Slaine. “I’ve been busy helping out a new knight. You would like him.”

“Really?” She gazes up at him with curious eyes, her grip around him loosening. “What’s he like?”

“He doesn’t like to talk about himself much, but he’s got a good heart. He always tells me to stop using the titles, much like you, princess.”

Lemrina chuckles, a playful smile lighting up her face. “Maybe you should start listening, Harklight!”

“It wouldn’t be proper most of the time.” Lemrina backs away with a sigh. “If Count Saazbaum allows it, I’ll try to introduce the two of you. You would get along well.”

“Really?” Her smile widens, eyes sparkling.

“Of course. So how have you been, princess? Has the staff here been treating you well?”

At his words, a scowl mars her delicate features. “Count Saazbaum tries to take care of my needs, but you know how observant he is.”

 _Not very_. The Count doesn’t see the way Slaine flinches every time Princess Asseylum is brought up or the way Harklight tries not to glare when the Count speaks derogatorily about Terrans in Slaine’s presence. For him to be any different around Lemrina would be more shocking than the truth.

“Anyways, I’ve had access to all sorts of things. You should have seen the Terran meal they prepared the other day! Troops on Earth have been sending up supplies for Vers from the areas they conquered, and it’s so amazing!” Her eyes sparkle, her voice filled with longing as she continues. “I would love to get there someday. Maybe there, I could live freely. I wouldn’t have to be confined to a corridor or a room.”

“I’m sure when Earth is conquered, you’ll be one of the first to explore it,” Harklight reassures her. “But before that, I’m sure Slaine could tell you all about life there.”

“Slaine?” She screwed up her face at the unfamiliar name. “Who’s that?”

“Sir Slaine Troyard. He’s the knight I was telling you about earlier. He’s a Terran.”

“A Terran?” Lemrina gasps, and Harklight tries his best not to glare at her. “How did they let a Terran become a knight?”

Harklight shrugs. Even he knew the whole story, it isn’t his to tell. “It’s a special situation.”

“You know more, don’t you Harklight? Shouldn’t you be telling me all about him because I asked?”

“He asked me not to speak of it, and I must obey his commands first.”

Lemrina laughs at his words, but he tenses. For a girl of fifteen, she’s acquired a bitterness that could rival the most cynical. “I’m a princess, but my very commands mean nothing. You give me titles, yet you hide me from the world. It’s quite the contradiction, don’t you think? I hate people like you. You only come and around show interest in me because of my blood.”

“That’s not true, princess. I admire you because you are worthy of upmost respect as a person, not because of any title.”

“Then if you really care about me, introduce me to Sir Slaine.” Harklight tries to accept, but she cuts him off. “And before you even think of asking, I authorize this if Count Saazbaum asks why you didn’t ask his permission to introduce your knight to me.”

“Yes, princess.” Harklight bows, ready to take his leave. He’s tired after another long day, and spending even more time awake to speak with Lemrina doesn’t quite appeal to him as much as talking with Slaine. But before he can turn towards the door, Lemrina grabs the end of his sleeve and holds tight.

“Harklight, don’t leave me. Please.”

Harklight can’t find any words to respond. Time and time again, he will have to leave her behind. It’s his duty. _Save the third class citizens and make Slaine happy._ There’s no room for Lemrina in his heart, and there never has been.

She seems to understand it too, and she lets go not too long after. “You’re the only one… but you have your duties, don’t you? Nineteen years old and you’ve got the wishes of a population on your shoulders. I just wish… never mind. It’s not like I’ll ever meet anyone who will understand.”

Harklight presses a feather-light kiss to Lemrina’s forehead before  he leaves her behind once more. There is no way he can stay any longer (if he stays, he’ll try to squeeze one more in, and he’s already let in one too many). A tiny brunette girl passes him on the way out, but she means nothing to him. Eddelrittuo, he remembers one of the others calling her.

Former handmaiden to Princess Asseylum. A girl like her could never see Lemrina as more than just a replacement princess.

That night, it isn’t Slaine that keeps him awake.

Weeks pass, juggling time between Slaine and Lemrina, until he’s ready to collapse from exhaustion.  Eddelrittuo, who’s taken to spending as much time as she can in Slaine’s presence, makes him a cup of tea one morning, a worried little frown on her face. “Y-you looked like you might like some, Mr. Harklight.”

He takes it with pleasant thanks, but it does little to keep him awake. Decaffeinated, the tea bag reads (and what ill manners it is to serve a guest tea with the bag still in it, but he cannot even muster the energy to correct her error).

Nights seem to drag on. Exhausted as he is, thoughts plague him until the late hour finally lulls him into sleep. And when he wakes up a few hours later, he’s left more tired than before. He tries to cover the signs, but the dark circles still stand out too boldly.

As he helps Slaine finish a report on a skirmish with a few Terran forces, a yawn escapes him. Slaine glances up, his glassy eyes filled with concern. “I can finish this up, Harklight. You should get some rest.”

Harklight nods, weary enough not to insist he was fine. Even so, he lingers behind, resting his head on the desk. He could fall asleep like this, listening to the scritch-scratch of pen across paper and Slaine’s metronomic breathing until he’s lulled to nothingness.

But to his dismay, his sleep-deprivation loosens his tongue instead. “Tomorrow… come with me for my night duties, Slaine.”

Slaine’s frown deeps, and he sets down the pen. “What do they entail?”

“There’s… there’s this girl who wants to meet you.” Harklight guards his words even though they’re alone in the office. Who knows who could be listening in to their private conversation? He wouldn’t want to risk Lemrina’s safety over candidness.

“Oh.” Slaine takes a long time to respond thereafter. Harklight waits with breath held for rejection, but it never comes. “I suppose I could once.”

Harklight lets out a sigh of relief as the tension escapes his shoulders. “Thank you, Slaine.”

And to his amazement, the next day, Slaine keeps his promise. When they finish their last paper for the day, Harklight isn’t dismissed. “Where are your night duties?”

There’s no way Harklight can explain. Lemrina’s tucked away too neatly in a hidden, forbidden hallway to give directions. And even if she was closer, Harklight would never dare mention the forbidden part. “You’ll see.”

Harklight leads the way through the winding hallway to better respond. Slaine follows close behind, close enough that Harklight’s heels are stepped on more than a couple of times.

When they stop in front of the door, Slaine hesitates. “Are you sure it is fine for me to help?”

“She asked for you specifically.” Harklight punches in the code, and door slides open to reveal the hallway. He steps through, but Slaine doesn’t follow. He shifts his blue-green eyes nervously between the door and Harklight, his posture stiff. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

Slaine pauses only a moment longer before he shakily steps through the door. Harklight sets off the last few feet, and they’re at the door to Lemrina’s room. “Wait right here. I’m just going to let her know you’re here, okay, and then I’ll come get you.”

Slaine nods, but an uneasy frown crosses his face anyways. Harklight opens the door and slips inside, determined to make introductions quick. Not to his surprise, Lemrina waits close inside, reading. Eddelrittuo is nowhere to be found, also as expected (Harklight’s learned time and time again she has other princesses to prioritize).

When the door clicks shut, Lemrina looks up, icy smile plastered on as usual. “Ah, Harklight. What a pleasure to see you.”

Harklight bows as expected, but there’s so little meaning in it anymore, he has half a mind to give up the formalities. Only a strong sense of duty keeps him repeating the motions each night- that, and a genuine respect for Lemrina the girl. “Good evening, Princess.”

When he stands up straight, Lemrina directs a questioning gaze on him. He suppresses the urge to shudder; her eyes are always sharp. “Who’s with you? I heard you speaking with someone outside.”

Harklight can’t help but grimace. He can guess the underlying question too well. _Did Count Saazbaum come with you tonight?_ He sympathizes with Lemrina, but sometimes, her distaste for the Count was in rather poor taste. Count Saazbaum always tried to ensure her comfort, even if he lacked some of the necessary tact to deal with her.

He wills away his emotions to state as officially as possible, “Sir Slaine Troyard has come to visit you. Would you wish to meet with him?”

Shock wipes Lemrina’s smirk off her face. “You… you really brought him here? For me?” Harklight nods once in response. “Harklight…”

“There’s no need to thank me, Princess. I only performed the duty you asked of me.” It’s far too impersonal , but Harklight can barely bring himself to care. He doesn’t have time for her overwhelming gratitude and emotion burdens now. Slaine waits in the hallway, probably fantasizing some horrible scenario about what he’ll have to face, and Harklight can’t leave him alone a moment longer.

Lemrina flinches at his words, but she does not comment on them. “Very well. Bring him in.”

The equally cold tone drives Harklight to the door faster than he can think of a response. He opens it and calls, “You can come in now, Milord.”

When Slaine steps inside, it’s as if he’s become another person. The hesitant boy in the halls returned to the collected knight, his eyes watching with a guardedness that’s too commonplace for Harklight’s liking. At Lemrina’s first sight of Slaine, she gapes. She composes herself quickly enough, but Harklight’s known her long enough to catch the way she ogles Slaine.

He cannot blame her. Slaine is beautiful, more beautiful that anyone he’s ever known. But unlike Lemrina, he cannot allow himself to admire his master. Instead, he plays his role as the connector and starts the necessary introductions. “Milord, this is Princess Lemrina Vers Envers, second daughter of Former Emperor Gilzeria. Princess, this is my master, Sir Slaine Troyard, son of the famed Terran researcher Doctor Troyard.”

Almost immediately, Slaine drops to one knee and bows to Lemrina in the traditional Versian style. “It is an honor to meet you, Princess Lemrina.”

“And I to you, Slaine Troyard.” She smiles faintly as she says Slaine’s name. “Please stand up. It will be rather hard to get to know you if you spend all your time on worthless formalities.”

Harklight steps back as Lemrina interrogates Slaine good-naturedly, his heart sinking. Without a doubt, the two are kindred spirits, Slaine with his years suffering hatred everywhere and Lemrina with her banishment from regular society. They are not the type who fit in anywhere normal (and they are not the type who Harklight will ever be allowed to stay with forever).

They linger in a world of hurt, each reaching out for a home Harklight longs to provide for them.

Fortunately, Slaine yawns soon enough, and Harklight gets his reprieve. “As much as I would love to spend more time with you tonight, Sir Slaine needs his rest. We are expecting a possible attack from the Terrans tomorrow and need to be in top condition.”

Lemrina visibly deflates at his words. “You better not get killed, Harklight.”

“I won’t be out on the battlefield,” Harklight assures her. “I currently serve on base to relay instructions to Sir Slaine as they come in.”

“You’ll be fighting, Slaine?” Lemrina wheels a little closer to Slaine, scanning him with her azure eyes. “You don’t look like much of a fighter.”

Slaine smiles politely at her words, but Harklight can’t miss the way his posture stiffens. “I pilot the Tharsis, Princess.”

“Oh.” Even Lemrina has heard of the Tharsis’s escapades (some of which Harklight has told her). For a seventeen-year old, Slaine’s earned quite the reputation in his Kataphrakt as a talented soldier. “Well, good hunting to you.”

“I am most honored to hear that from you, Princess.” Slaine bows again, and Harklight follows suit (Slaine’s respect leaves him no choice). “Good night.”

Slaine opens the door, but before Harklight can leave, Lemrina calls out to him. “Wait, Harklight!” Harklight pauses, even as Slaine waits on the other side for him. “Stay for a little longer.”

Exhaustion weighs heavily in his limbs, but Harklight can’t find it within him to say no. “Only a few more minutes. I wouldn’t want to keep Sir Slaine waiting.”

Lemrina relaxes, slumping back in her chair. “You were right about Slaine.”

“What do you mean, Princess?” He has said many things about Slaine to her, too many to possibly narrow down to what she meant.

“That I would get along with him. He’s like me, isn’t he? He’s suffered hardships too.” For the first time since Harklight’s met her, Lemrina’s eyes light up with passion. “I… I think I could fall in love with him, Harklight. He could be… No, never mind. It’s far too soon to think about things like that.”

Her words sting more than Harklight could ever explain. He understands though, imaging a life by Slaine’s side without any worries about the future… Harklight shoves those illusions aside. He cannot dream of anything like that when so many people on Vers need him to save them.

“You have a right to dream, Princess. I’ll bring him back with me soon, and then… maybe with enough time…”

“You love him, don’t you, Harklight?” Lemrina interrupts him, her voice soft but piercing. “You love him more than you’ve ever loved me.”

Harklight finds himself at a loss for words. She’s absolutely right.

“I don’t blame you.”

Not for the first time, Harklight struggles to fit a third goal on his list. But for all he tries, his heart has no room left for Lemrina’s happiness. He cares about her, but he would never sacrifice his everything for her.

“Just… bring him back as often as you can, Harklight. I think… I think I’d like to hear about Earth.” A gentle smile graces her lips, lighter than any he’s seen on her. “Good night, Harklight.”

Harklight finds enough energy to return her smile. “Good night, Princess.”

Slaine still waits for him when he exits into the hallway, and together, they return to their sleeping quarters.

As they walk through the hallways, Slaine murmurs, “Thank you taking me along.”

Harklight’s heart lightens, even though he knows he deserves none of the thanks. “I only followed Princess Lemrina’s request.”

“Still…” Slaine almost smiles for once, his blue-green eyes shining with an oddly genuine light, “I appreciate it. Maybe I’ll join you for another time.”

“You are always welcome to come, Milord.”

“Please, just call me Slaine, Mr. Harklight.”

“Only when you start calling me Harklight.” Finally, Slaine smiles for real (they have this conversation every couple of days, it seems), but Harklight barely gets a chance to see it. Too soon, they’ve arrived at their separation fork. Slaine will go off to his isolated, single room (one of the perks of being a knight, Harklight’s told), while Harklight returns to his shared dorm.

When Harklight enters, his roommate’s still awake, typing up reports. “You’re up late, Harklight.”

Harklight plops onto the lower bunk with a sight. “You are too, Caius.”

“Gotta finish up my maintenance report for the fight tomorrow.” Caius yawns loudly, though his hand never stops flying across the keys. He pauses for a moment to brush his dark bangs out of his steel grey eyes. “Everything’s all checked out with the Stygises. I’ll be good to go.”

“Very good.” Harklight’s jaw clenches. They had made the bright-eyed seventeen year-old a Stygis master newly out of training school, and already, he had proven himself on the battlefield. But every time Caius went out, Harklight couldn’t help but worry. Caius has so much left to live for, but he’s out throwing his life as a lower nobleman for glory.

“You know, since Arkadios is injured, we have a spare Stygis unit available.” Caius looks up with a look so innocent Harklight can hardly believe he’s a soldier. “You have the qualifications to pilot them, don’t you?”

Harklight vaguely remembers an offer to join the Stygis Squadron shortly after becoming a soldier, but he has no desire to change his mind now. The Stygis Squadron’s a dead end route.

And even if he did, Slaine needs him more. “I’ll have to pass.” He yawns, the exhaustion from the past weeks catching up to him once again. “Don’t stay up too late. You need your rest.”

Caius pouts at that like some petulant child, but he keeps quiet.

It’s only after Harklight’s in his sleep clothes and ready to go to bed that he finally speaks again. “Hey, Harklight?”

“What is it?” Only his good nature keeps Harklight from snapping. He’s far too exhausted for conversation now.

“Vers… Vers will win the war, right? All this fighting, it’ll all be worth it?”

 _Absolutely,_ Harklight should say, or perhaps _Of course, Caius, don’t be ridiculous. Vers is the strongest._ But instead, all he manages is the truth. “I would like to think so.”

“All those people who’ve died at my hands… They must be at peace now.” Caius shuts down the computer, casting the room in complete darkness. “I hope this all ends soon.”

And as Caius finally goes to bed, Harklight has to cover his ears with his pillow to muffle the sobs.

The next morning arrives too soon, and Harklight’s swept away by chaotic battle preparations. It all blurs together. Performing the final checks on the Tharsis before Slaine arrives. Slaine arriving on cue with a steely glint in his eye. A final send-off to his master before the kataphrakt’s hatch snaps shut. One last goodbye to Caius as he runs towards the launch deck.

The call for attack.

Harklight stands at the window, watching the battle unfold with a trained gaze. In the distance, all he can make out are streaks of violet amongst fiery blossoms. The Stygis Squadron fights hard.

It shouldn’t be beautiful, but somehow, it is.

“UFE Kataphrakts broke through the left flank! 3 drones down, please send out su-“ Harklight flinches as the com cuts to static, but he cannot allow himself to think of the possibilities.

He adjusts his channels accordingly to order, “Milord, we need you to launch.”

“I’m ready.” Slaine’s voice doesn’t waver in the slightest. “Slaine Troyard, reading for launch.”

Harklight presses the necessary buttons to begin. “Beginning launch. Good hunting.”

All too soon, azure streaks flit through the tangle faster than any of the others, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Slaine is nothing but efficient, and all too soon, the battle’s over.

Vers has won once again, but all Harklight can think of is how Caius never finished his last words.

He doesn’t allow himself to mourn. He has a master to serve, and duties to tend to. Grief can wait until later.

When Harklight reaches to the dock, Saazbaum waits with a cool smirk on his weathered face. They share no words, only a brief nod of acknowledgement. They’re waiting for the same soldier to return, not each other. And soon enough, Slaine lands right in front of them, graceful as ever.

Like any good servant, Harklight’s right by Slaine’s side from the moment he opens the hatch. At the sight of Slaine, worn but utterly alive, some of the tension in Harklight dissipates. Slaine is safe. Slaine is alive. Slaine is safe safe safe.

As they glide to Saazbaum’s side, Harklight resists the urge to grab Slaine and hold tight. It wouldn’t be proper. But after Caius, he needs… he pushes the thoughts away. Slaine deserves better than that.

“Well done, Slaine.” Saazbaum’s expression softens a little (more and more, Harklight sees that glint in the Count’s eyes not unlike that in his father’s when Harklight made him proud) as he speaks. “You are certainly a worthy successor to the Tharsis.”

Though Slaine keeps a neutral expression, Harklight notices his posture straighten. “You honor me, Count Saazbaum.”

“Only with that you deserve.” The count’s voice drops into a whisper, just loud enough for Slaine and Harklight to hear. “Both of you, meet me in my office at eight o’clock tonight. I have matters I wish to discuss with you.”

Harklight nods at Saazbaum’s words, though he cannot imagine what they could possibly have to speak about. The war’s progressing without an end in sight. Surrender, all-out offensive, blunt honesty with the people, political marriages, anything could be said and it would hardly be suprising.

But now, he has little strength left to listen. All he longs for is the chance to return to his dorm and sleep away everything, but there’s too much left to do. Without any choice, he follows Slaine out to fill out post-battle reports.

In the quiet of Slaine’s room, they work through paperwork. For once, Slaine’s faster than he is. Too many documents flash at Harklight asking for complete accounts, but he cannot bring himself to go back and finish the last part of them.  How can he type possibly type the truth?

Caius, who arrived at the moon base shortly after Harklight did with a bright grin on his face that didn’t fit a soldier. Caius, who claimed he would rise through the ranks to make his father proud. Caius, who fought after battle without losing his sense of self.

“Harklight, is something the matter?” Slaine glances over, his brows knitted with worry. As he shakes his head, he bites his cheek. He cannot let Slaine worry about him. He has to be fine, if not for his sake, then for his master.

He starts to type. _Caius Ariston requested assistance over the com system after three of the drones were destroyed, but his unit was destroyed by the UFE forces. There was no body left to recover._

He erases it. _Caius Ariston died requesting assistance. I launched the Tharsis too late to deal with the threat._

He erases it again. _I’m a goddamn fool_.

“Harklight, do you need some help?” Slaine’s computer’s already turned off. Maybe some other time, Harklight might have laughed. Slaine finishing reports before Harklight never happened. “We don’t have much time left to finish them up if we want dinner before meeting with Count Saazbaum.”

Harklight could care less about dinner.

“I’m fine, Slaine.” Harklight takes a deep breath, resetting his hands on the keys. “I’m almost finished.”

_Caius Ariston communicated with me to ask for more Versians forces to be deployed. As requested, the Tharsis was launched. Unfortunately, Caius was killed in action as he delivered the message. No body was recovered. Please notify the family and tell them his last message saved a number of soldiers today. He died a hero._

Without another thought, Harklight copies the sentences to all the accounts and submits them.

“There. I’m done.” Harklight shuts down his computer, and the room falls silent.

They should try to get dinner, Harklight knows. Slaine must be famished after such an exhausting battle. But to his surprise, Slaine does not say a word of complaint. Instead, he keeps his steady gaze on Harklight, almost as if he’s expecting something.

At last, Slaine finally says what’s on his mind. “I heard about Caius. He was your roommate, wasn’t he?”

Harklight nods. “He was.” Somehow, he manages an indifferent tone. He cannot afford weakness; he cannot afford emotion.

“I’m sorry.” Harklight cannot respond; there is nothing he can say.

“Sad, isn’t it? Children dying and nothing changes.”

Harklight cannot speak.

“Maybe I’ll join them. One day, my prediction powers won’t be enough and I’ll end up like the rest of them, dead as-”

“You won’t.” Harklight surprises even himself with his austerity. “You won’t die, Slaine. You have to live and see your dreams through.”

Slaine stares wide-eyed, but he breaks too soon into awful laughter. “What dreams, Harklight? I don’t have any dreams.”

“But.. the princess… didn’t you want to…?” Harklight trails off as Slaine laughs harder. “Please stop that, Slaine.”

Slaine quiets down, but the haunted look doesn’t leave his gaze. “Tonight, after Saazbaum’s meeting, I have something to show you too.”

They end up eating a quiet dinner in Slaine’s room (nothing special, but it taste so much better eating it with someone), neither of them daring to speak. Something’s changed between them, but Harklight can’t quite say what. For once… he almost feels…

No, he cannot think that way. It’s far too improper. He must focus solely on Slaine’s happiness, not his own.

But later, as he thinks back on it, something even worse occurs to him. Not once does his home cross his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up deciding to split Act 3 into two parts. Act 4 will be up next Tuesday for you, which will bring us to the end of pre-season 2 material.
> 
> By the way, Caius is the last completely original character in case if you were wondering.


	4. Act Four: Procurement

Count Saazbaum waits for them behind his desk, resting his head wearily on his propped hand. “Thank you for coming.”

“Sir.” Slaine and Harklight bow synchronously to the count (Count Saazbaum would never let them get away with informality).

“I’m sure you wondered why I called you in after such an exhausting day. I apologize for that, but this is a matter of urgency.” Count Saazbaum leans over on the desk with a smirk, and Harklight straights back up to attention. Whatever the count has to say, it will be of upmost importance. “The war has not progressed enough. We have yet to make steady headway on our Earth invasions, and our battles in space have led to little. It is time we change that.” 

“And how do you suggest we do that, sir?” Slaine asks in an unusually clipped tone. “The Orbital Knights refuse to work together in our endeavor.”

The smirk widens, but that sparkle’s back in Count Saazbaum’s eye. “Exactly, Slaine. It is time we force them to work together.”

The pieces connect for Harklight at Count Saazbaum’s words. “Are you suggesting we use Princess Lemrina?”

Slaine gasps, but Count Saazbaum merely nods. “Correct. She could mask herself as Princess Asseylum with the story she was paralyzed after her injuries on Earth and speak for cooperation. And because she would be the princess, they would listen to whatever they said.”

“She won’t agree to this, sir.” Harklight hates to be contrary, but it would be wrong to lie to the count. Lemrina is too prideful, too set on isolating herself from her family and everything it stood for, to agree to something like that.

Count Saazbaum shook his head. “If the three of us work together, I’m sure we can get her to agree. She’s already taken a liking to Slaine.”

Harklight would love to protest, but he has already outspoken his position.  Instead, he sighs and suggets, “If I may be so candid, we should approach the topic delicately with her.  She is quite sensitive to even minute wording choices.”

For once, Count Saazbaum’s prideful gaze turns on Harklight. “Excellent idea, Harklight. And how do you propose we do so?”

Harklight struggles to find a response. His opinions are rarely this valued by the count, so he did not think much of the details. But at last, the words come to him. “She wishes to be her own person, not some second-rate princess, so if we suggest it would be an opportunity for her to personally influence the Orbital Knights, she might be more willing to listen. Also, we must take care to refute any notion she might just be a replacement.”

“Absolutely. Perhaps you should be the one to suggest the idea to her.” The moment the offer leaves Count Saazbaum’s lips, Harklight shakes his head.

There is no way he can be the one to convince Princess Lemrina. She may care for him, and he for her, but they are two beings separated by far too much to ever understand each other completely. No, he cannot risk ruining what comradery exists between them for Count Saazbaum’s plans.

But in his place, only one name comes to mind. “Let Sir Slaine do it.”

Both the count and his master stare at him, wide-eyed. If Harklight hadn’t been so startled, he might have found it hilarious. Their expressions were nearly identical, like father and son. “Mr. Harklight, I hardly know her. I doubt she would listen to me.”

“I think once you get to know her, you’ll find she will value your opinion.”

To Harklight’s surprise, Count Saazbaum smiles at his words. “You seem to understand her quite well, Harklight. I’m most impressed.”

Harklight has nothing to say in response. Anyone could see Princess Lemrina’s admiration for Slaine, except perhaps the count. With a few more meetings, surely she too will listen to those pretty words fall from such gentle lips.

“Very well, Harklight. If Slaine has no objection, we will proceed with your suggestion.” Harklight holds his breath as Slaine ponders the proposition. Had it been rude of him to nominate his master in his place? He hadn’t even bothered to ask Slaine if he would be interested in it, especially considering the knight had only just met Princess Lemrina.

Slaine finally nods in response. Harklight struggles not to let out of a relieved sigh; it would be rather impolite. Count Saazbaum’s pleased gaze returns to Slaine (as always; Slaine is Count Saazbaum’s pride) as he continues. “Excellent. Then I give you leave to proceed with Harklight’s suggestion. Please report your results as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” Harklight and Slaine bow, and they’re dismissed without another word.

For once, pride swells up within Harklight. After years of waiting, years of being put in his place, finally the world has turned in his favor.

Maybe they’ll finally start listening to the cries of a third-class citizen.

Slaine leads him away from the office in a direction Harklight knows far too well. Soon enough, they’re outside the room where Princess Asseylum lies in a coma, a room he’s never be granted leave to enter.

This time, Slaine beckons him inside. Harklight’s feet feel like lead. It is too much of an honor, being allowed to visit with the one Slaine holds in such high regard.

He cannot accept in good conscience, but he follows his master into the room anyways. It’s a cold place, cast in an icy blue glow that leaves the room unwelcoming. As the door slides shut behind him, his gaze is drawn to the only source of light.

Princess Asseylum hangs like a doll in therapeutic fluid, her eyes shut. Every so often, air bubbles float to the top of the tank, enough to know she’s still alive. Though he can’t explain why, he finds himself waiting for the hiss of the breathing apparatus to silence.

He struggles to push thoughts aside. If it were to stop, the princess would likely be dead. And if Princess Asseylum died… Harklight forces himself to ignore the consequences. Thinking of Slaine’s inevitable grief is far too cruel a thought at this hour.

For the first time, as Slaine stands in front of the tank, Harklight notices the tension in his shoulders ease. He appears oddly innocent, admiring the figure in the tank with a soft gaze. “This is Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia, Harklight. I’m sure she would be pleased to meet you at last.”

“It is an honor.” Out of respect (or perhaps habit), Harklight gets on one knee and bows towards the sleeping princess.  It’s a strange feeling, bowing to someone who cannot see him. But a princess is a princess, he supposes; logic hardly applies with them. “Sir Slaine has told me much about you.”

She does not respond. He doesn’t expect her to.

After Harklight straightens up, they stand in silence. Slaine watches the princess with that admiring gaze once more. Unbecoming thoughts cross Harklight’s mind, but he silences them before they can be fostered.

He has no right to wish for that gaze on him.

“Princess,” Slaine speaks, as if Harklight isn’t there, “have I told you about the seasons on Earth before?”

Harklight’s interest piques. Terran seasons? He couldn’t possibly imagine what they are like. After all, Earth does not suffer dust storms like Vers.

As if he had done it innumerable times (which Slaine has likely done), Slaine pulls up holographic screens. Harklight gasps. Images of flowers blooming over lush fields, sunlight shining over gigantic expanses of water, vivid-colored leaves, and even a world blanketed in shimmering white reflect on the tanks glass.

Without realizing it, he reaches towards the pictures, towards the inexplicable beauty in them. Is this really Earth? Is it really a world colored in vibrant hues, not just with shades of burnt orange?

“In spring, flowers bloom and the world rejuvenates itself after cold. People like to think of it as a season of rebirth and new beginnings.” Slaine finally glances at Harklight, his eyes bright. “It’s quite a sight to see.”

He switches to the pictures of water and sand. “Summer is the hottest season. During it, people like to visit beaches and play in the ocean because the water’s much more tolerable if it’s warm. In terms of meaning, it’s associated more with the prime of life.”

The ocean… Harklight would love to see the ocean someday. It’s a beautiful blue-green, not unlike Slaine’s eyes.

“Fall’s most related to middle and old age, but it’s got a charm to it. The leaves change from green to shades of red or yellow, and they fall off the trees. Sometimes, people even rake all the leaves up and jump into them.”

Harklight smiles. He could easily imagine his younger self and Farrow having so much fun with a pile of leaves. But instead, they just had clouds of dust and breathing problems to worry about outside.

“But at the end of fall, the weather turns cold. Sometimes, it even snows.”

“Snows?” Harklight cocks his head, frowning at the pictures of a white-coated world. “What is snow?”

Slaine laughs, a ringing laugh that sets Harklight’s heart fluttering. “I forget you don’t get any on Vers, even though it’s generally colder there. When the sky’s cold, water freezes into little ice crystals that fall to the ground like rain. When you pile enough up, it looks like the whole world’s coated in white.”

Harklight would love to see snow too.

“It’s rather cold, but people still enjoy playing out in it.” Slaine smiles at the tank wistfully. “Princess Asseylum never liked the cold much.”

“What about you? Do you like the cold?”

Slaine just shrugs. “I’ve lived long enough in the cold that I’ve gotten used to it.”

“But do you like it?”

It takes too long for Slaine to respond. “Not particularly. I prefer to be warm.”

Harklight makes note to ensure Slaine gets warmer sheets the next time they’re changed. But for the time being, he continues listening to Slaine’s lesson on seasons.

Not for the first time, the knight’s words fill him with wonder. When Slaine speaks of it, it’s as if…

No, he cannot imagine such things. He cannot want anything of the sort. He is just a servant, loyal to the Versian Empire and to those he left back home.

When they finally leave the room behind, Harklight murmurs, “Thank you, Slaine.”

Slaine glances back, but if he hears Harklight’s slip, he does not acknowledge it. Harklight returns to an empty room (Caius will not return anymore, but it is too late to clear his things away) and falls into a restless sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up early and disposes as much of Caius’s things as he can. Only a few things he keeps, just a ruby pin to send back to the family and a monogramed handkerchief that Harklight slips in his pocket. The room loses its personality (Caius had always scattered his things around the room), but he’ll get used to it in time.

On the way to joining Slaine, Harklight drops off the pin. The worker just gives his a pitying glance before sending him on his way again, even though she’s the one to be pitied. Bearing the weight of sending all the letters to dead soldiers’ families is something Harklight could never do.

Weeks pass in relative quiet. Between paperwork and war, Harklight and Slaine find time to visit Princess Lemrina. As they meet again and again, Harklight watches Lemrina’s smile grow a little more genuine towards Slaine until one night, she keeps Harklight later, much like that first night when Slaine and the princess first met.

“I should have told you to never bring him back, Harklight.” Lemrina slumps back in her chair, pressing a hand against her temple. “He’s too good for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that, Princess.” Harklight tries for a reassuring smile, though weariness makes even standing straight hard for him. “You are a much better person than you give yourself credit for.”

But for all his effort, Lemrina just shakes her head again. She never listens to kind words about herself. “He has overcome his struggles, whereas I’m stuck loathing my very life because nothing ever changes.”

“Things could change.” Harklight regrets the words the moment they slip out of his mouth, but it’s far too late to stop them. “Count Saazbaum wishes you to speak to the Versians as their princess.”

The offer brings a guarded look to Lemrina’s eyes. “As myself, or as my dear sister?”

Harklight takes his time to respond. The words are not what the princess will wish to hear, but they are the only answer he has. “As Princess Asseylum. They would be your words, not hers.”

“My words…” She scoffs, a cruel smile on her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harklight. I’m not going to be my sister’s replacement.”

“Please do think about it.” In his panic, Harklight bows too respectfully (he’s done it now, getting the princess annoyed with him so she won’t listen seriously). “I must get going. I shouldn’t keep Sir Slaine waiting alone any longer.”

The smirk widens, and Harklight suppresses the shivers running down his spine. “It’s always Sir Slaine this, Sir Slaine that with you, isn’t it, Harklight?” But before he can reply, her expression softens a little. “At least now, I can see why you’re so enamored with him.”

As he rejoins Slaine, Lemrina’s words linger on his mind. He doesn’t focus that much on Slaine, does he? Slaine’s his master, so naturally, he would be important to Harklight.

He couldn’t believe his own words for a minute.

Slaine doesn’t ask what passed inside, even though Harklight must look bothered. For once, he finds himself thankful for his master’s quietude. They travel in silence until they reach their separate paths.

Harklight turns to leave, but Slaine grabs his coat sleeve. “My room has an extra bed.”

Harklight should refuse. He can see the hidden question in his words. Every instinct screams to say no, to do the right thing and return to his own room, but in a lapse of judgement, he nods.

He still hasn’t gotten used to waking up to an empty room.

For a knight’s room, it always bothers Harklight how little differs from his own. The same colorless metal serves as the walls, the same boring dressers as decoration. The only difference is a pair of beds in the corners of the room instead of a pair bunked, and even they aren’t much nicer.

As Slaine once told him, the room was meant as a temporary location for high-ranking prisoners. If Count Saazbaum had not put in the effort to renovate the room to be a little friendlier, it probably would have looked the part more.

Still, the minute Harklight steps inside, the temperature drops a few degrees. The insulation is not as thick around here.

They do not speak as they take off their coats. Harklight longs to ask why Slaine wants him to spend the night in his room, but with the way Slaine won’t look at him, the question is better off unanswered. As he slips into bed, Slaine finally breaks the silence. “Thank you, Harklight.”

“You’re welcome, Milord.” Harklight watches Slaine curl up so his head faces the wall, oddly youthful, with a soft smile on his face. It is the start of something, though of what, he couldn’t quite say.

Harklight retires to the other bed, and unlike most nights, he quickly falls into a dreamless sleep.

He awakes to heavy breathing. Startled, Harklight sits straight up to see Slaine clutching his sheets, eyes wide with unspeakable terror.

In that moment, all semblance of hierarchy disintegrates. He rushes to Slaine’s side not out of duty, his heart pounding out a rhythm of worry. Slaine doesn’t see him, staring blindly at the things of nightmares. Still, Harklight places a gentle hand on his master’s shoulder and whispers, first tentatively and then with force, “Milord. Milord Slaine. Slaine! Everything is fine. It was all just a dream.”

The spell before Slaine’s shattered blue-green eyes vanishes, and reality floods back in. The knight returns Harklight’s concerned gaze with glassy eyes. But before Harklight can think of overstepping boundaries, Slaine leans into his touch.

Though later, he will likely regret it, Harklight climbs onto the bed and takes Slaine into arms. To his surprise, Slaine doesn’t push him away. He buries his face in Harklight’s shoulder and says nothing, just sobs until he’s shaking from the effort.

Tears well up in the corners of Harklight’s eyes. How cruel is their world to let a seventeen year old boy sob so deeply over nightmares? How could he ever let a boy like Slaine fight on the front lines while he hides in safety, away from the danger, away from the horrors of war?

They don’t fall. If nothing else, Harklight’s learned time and time again tears are meaningless on Vers.

When Slaine finally glances up, Harklight suppresses the urge to press a soft kiss against Slaine’s forehead. “You won’t leave me, Harklight?”

“Never.”

Slaine relaxes in his arms, his eyes fluttering shut. “I dreamed of Russia.”

Russia. Harklight’s breath hitches with the realization. Did Slaine dream of Princess Asseylum’s shooting?

“I fired my gun at Orange again, but when the bullet hit, he changed to Count Saazaum. And the count pointed at his forehead again for me to shoot, I pulled the trigger, but the Princess’s body took his place and…”

“It was only a dream, Slaine.”

Slaine just shakes his head. “I shot two of them.”

Harklight falls silent. He had known about the Terran; Slaine had told him as much months ago. But to have been behind Count Saazbaum’s wounds… Harklight should scorn his master, but he cannot. Slaine is gentle, Slaine is kind, more so than anyone in the military.

He shivers as a horrific thought falls so easily into his thought process. _Slaine Troyard’s decisions are always right._

Slaine is only human. He will make mistakes.

But in that moment, Harklight vows to make them right alongside him.

That way, Slaine won’t be alone in failure.

As the weeks pass, Harklight’s things gradually transition to Slaine’s room, until the only things left in his own dorm are the sheets on his bed. Time and time again, he wakes up at night to the sound of Slaine tossing and turning in his sleep; in some way, he’s almost become attune to it.

And even though they say little, Harklight comes to understand Slaine better. The princess plagues his nightmares, bleeding and dying alongside the cast of people his master’s killed or injured. It’s a too long list for someone so young,

And one night, as Harklight talks Slaine down from his petrification, Slaine doesn’t send him away.

Harklight stops returning to the separate bed after that.

The first night after, he wakes up in the morning with a sudden realization. Not once did Slaine stir. A soft smile eases onto his face as he glances down at Slaine’s sleeping form. He’s rather innocent in his sleep, like the purest of angels.

If only Slaine could still look that same when he opens his eyes.

After they finish their work for the day, Slaine glances up from the paperwork and murmurs, “Thank you, Harklight.”

Harklight nods his head in response. Slaine’s personal comfort is nothing he should be thanked for; it is only his duty (and his wish, but he could never admit that).

“I’m going to try proposing Count Saazbaum’s idea to Princess Lemrina today. You will be able to back me up if she is not convinced, won’t you?”

“Of course, Milord.”

“There’s no need for any formalities, Harklight. No one’s around who would care.”

Harklight finds himself smiling at Slaine’s words. “It’s the respect you deserve, Slaine, but if you wish, when we’re alone…”

“I would.” Those two words set his mind at ease, even though he’s sure he’ll slip soon enough. He is far too accustomed to his politeness. “I don’t deserve such titles.”

Slaine starts putting the papers into the proper place, but Harklight cannot let the conversation end like that. “You do.”

There is no response, but Harklight can’t miss the gratitude in Slaine’s eyes.

They leave the room behind to visit Lemrina once more. Surely she will wait for them with open arms, or at least an open heart. Somehow, when she’s around Slaine, her eyes light up far brighter than they do around him.

He shouldn’t find it so hurtful, especially when he could never be the person he wished for her to be.

“Princess,” Slaine exhales, bowing to her with upmost respect. Without thinking, Harklight bows in time with Slaine. When did Harklight become so in-sync with Slaine that Slaine didn’t need to state his intentions for Harklight to mirror him? “It is wonderful to see you looking well.”

“And the same to you.” Lemrina’s formal words cannot hide her delight. “How has your day been, Sir Slaine?”

“Rather well. Mr. Harklight and I accomplished quite a lot today.” The formalities are back too soon. Is it their fate, only speaking familiarity alone?

“That’s wonderful,” Lemrina speaks, but she hardly sounds enthused. She has never cared much their work, not when she has little clue about what it is. “Your work for the Orbital Knights is most commendable.”

“You honor me, Princess.” Slaine dips his head again, but Harklight cannot miss the slight prideful smile. “On the contrary, I think what you have to offer to the Orbital Knights is far more impressive than my meager contributions.”

“What do you mean?” Lemrina shies back in her chair, her expression guarded. The Princess is far too clever; surely, she has caught onto Slaine’s intentions already. “You don’t expect me to be some sort of substitute for my sister, do you?”

Slain shakes his head, his pleasant mask returning. False light twinkles his vivid eyes; if Harklight had not come to know Slaine well, he might have been fooled. “You could never be a replacement for your sister, Princess. You are your own individual with your own words.”

“That’s very kind of you, but do you really mean it?” Harklight braces for failure. Lemrina will never agree now; once her mind is set, she rarely considers others’ thoughts.

But once again, Slaine surprises him. “With all my heart, Princess.” For a moment, vulnerability seeps into his tone. Harklight listens closer; rarely does his master let his guard down. “Princess Asseylum lived a sheltered life, caught up in beauty and ignorance. You are much more like me, aware of the cruelties of Vers. If I had the choice, I would rather you speak to the troops to urge them to continue fighting. You could understand their struggles and touch their hearts much more deeply than her.”

Slaine speaks pretty words, but Harklight sees through the lies. It’s all another plan, another piece in whatever game he plays.

“Because of that, I ask you with upmost respect, would you consider disguising yourself as Princess Asseylum to speak to our soldiers? We cannot keep pretending she is still recovering any longer.”

Lemrina smirks, but her eyes do not reflect the attitude she tries to portray. “So you are expecting me to be a substitute?”

“In a sense, yes. Only in appearance will you be her. In personality, it is your heart we wish for.”

Harklight waits for a response, but Lemrina says nothing, at least not to Slaine. “And what do you think of this, Harklight?”

The question shocks him, but he searches desperately for a response. Silence will not aid their argument. At last, a single question comes to mind. “Do you wish for anything, Princess?” Lemrina frowns, but she stays silent. “Anything at all?”

Slaine shoots a baffled look at Harklight, but Harklight does not reply. Slaine is not the only one who can change opinions (Harklight has done it time and time again since leaving Vers, although the magnitude has not been as great).

At last, Lemrina responds. “I want somewhere to call home. A home… no, a world where I am not hidden away, but one where I can live freely. I’d like a place where people value me for being Lemrina and not for my blood. A world… a world where we can have beautiful things like the Earth you’ve shown me,  Slaine… A Vers where no one suffers like either of you… It would be my kingdom, in the Earth-space, and it would be yours too…”

Harklight cannot help but smile at her words. Her dream paints lovely images, a sort of world Harklight could imagine giving to his people someday… a world he could see Slaine fit in perfectly. “That’s a lovely dream, Princess.”

“But… there’s no way I can achieve it now. Unless… Oh, Harklight, you really do have a way with words, don’t you.”

Slaine’s confusion heightens, but Harklight lets out a sigh for relief. Just this once, he and Lemrina can see eye-to-eye. Without Slaine, and without the goals he pursues (whether they are his or the count’s), they stand no hope of ever seeing their world come to life. Vers is too corrupt, too lacking to fix the problems they have, and Earth is too greedy to share their commonwealth.

“Very well. I will be your imposter princess.” Lemrina’s smirk returns, almost a relief. Lemrina’s softer side always leaves him guilty. “But don’t start thinking I’m actually her, will you? I’d hate to have you feeling me up or something because you think I’m that precious princess of yours.”

Slaine’s cheeks flush bright red, and he stammers incessantly. Harklight just shakes his head. He has no desires to violate a princess, let alone admire her for more than her grace as a royal.

“You’re rather handsome when you’re blushing, Slaine,” Lemrina teases. “Don’t you agree, Harklight?”

Harklight tries not to look over at Slaine in a new light, but it’s a hopeless case. Slaine does look rather nice, and he can feel the heat rise in his own cheeks as he tries not to imagine Slaine looking at him in the same light and-

“I knew it.” Lemrina flashes Harklight a smug grin, but she does not address the issue further. “So, what are my duties?”

As Slaine explains their little plan, Harklight tries to calm himself down. It would be improper for Slaine to look at him as more than a subordinate, and even their friendly relationship now has long since crossed that line. He cannot expect more, let alone long for such a futile dream.

He has too many dreams as it is. _Save the third-class citizens and keep Slaine happy._ He should have dedicated his heart whole-heartedly to the first, looked at Slaine as a nothing more than a kind superior. He shouldn’t have let it become something familiar, something emotional.

He has fallen too far in that regard, but he can stop it from progressing further.

_Slaine’s just a superior,_ Harklight insists as Slaine speaks his sweet lies in that soft, enticing voice.

_Slaine’s only a comrade,_ Harklight chants as Slaine brushes ashen hair out of those captivating eyes.

_Slaine’s not mine,_ Harklight chastises as Slaine smiles back at him as he mentions Harklight’s role.

_I cannot want Slaine._

As Lemrina bids them good night, Harklight barely allows himself to look at Slaine. They must return to normal servantly positions. It is the natural order, it is what must be done, it is-

“Thank you for your assistance, Harklight.” Slaine gives him a soft smile, and Harklight can’t do any of that. He cares far too much to go back to being a simple servant now. “Without you, Princess Lemrina would have never agreed.”

Harklight shakes his head; he cannot take all the credit. He would have never said those words if it hadn’t been for Slaine’s presence. “Your words were an excellent start. She just needed a little more convincing to agree today.”

“You give me far too much credit.”

“On the contrary, you don’t give yourself enough.”

Slaine laughs at that, and for a minute, Harklight can almost pretend this is just a conversation between two friends about ordinary things, not of war or its intricacies between a servant and master. Wouldn’t that be nice, he imagines, two friends enjoying their youth in school or whatever young adults did on Earth.

But at heart, he knows it could never be real.

“Tomorrow, we will have to remember to tell Count Saazbaum,” Harklight reminds Slaine kindly.

Slaine nods. “Of course. We will do it as soon as possible.” When Slaine looks away, Harklight can’t help but follow his gaze.  The stars shine bright outside, holding a hope that soldiers surely reach for beneath layers of metal. “Going out there, I can see everything.”

“Really?”

Slaine pauses, placing a hand against the glass. His reflection shows nothing but longing, the stars shining in the depths of his eyes. Somehow, it makes perfect sense, Slaine amongst a background of stars. It’s a as if Slaine belongs there, among the beautiful instead of the metallic world Harklight knows.

“I can see the future, at least a little. I see life and death, beauty and horror, beginnings and ends.” Slaine’s hand drops back to his side, but his gaze is farther away than ever, somewhere among those brilliant lights. “Is there any future for me, I wonder?”

“Of course there is, Milord!” Harklight stands straighter than ever, proud beyond compare. “This world will make way for your glorious future, I’m sure.”

Slaine turns around, his gaze not quite meeting Harklight’s earnest one. “If the Princess never awakens then…”

“You will have to find your own dreams.” Princess Lemrina comes back to mind, her simple dream not so far from his own. Perhaps if he can convince Slaine too, perhaps if he tries hard enough, it could become reality.

Their own little world, with all of Earth’s resources and Vers’s people, where his family would never worry about hunger or long hours again. A world where  Princess Lemrina could live free, and he would never have to try to fit one more dream into his heart. A world, if he were so ambitious, where Slaine’s angelic smile would never fall from his lips and the burdens would weigh nothing.

It may be fantastic, but if they fought hard enough, maybe they could make it reality.

He knows it.

 “I have no dreams beyond hers. You know that, Harklight.”

“She might as well be dead. Someday, if you are so fortunate, she will awaken, but until then, should you not live for something else?”

Slaine scowls, but Harklight will not stop. He cannot stand this any longer, Slaine’s misery because of _her_. “How dare you-”

“We cannot keep wishing for impossibilities, Slaine. We’ve placed our trust in Princess Lemrina now.” Harklight bows his head, too aware of his impertinence. It is too late for regrets, and the words keep tumbling out, all those feelings he’s longed to expression. “Pardon my rudeness, but there is no way you can be that innocent boy she expects you to be. You aren’t some lowly Terran anymore.”

As if Harklight slapped him across the face, Slaine flinches. “I know I’m not innocent, but if I’m by her side…”

“Think about it. What do you want?” At the hurt in Slaine’s eyes, Harklight softens. He’s gone too far this time. If nothing else, he has to try and make amends. “I don’t need an answer, but think about it.”

As Harklight turns to leave, he adds, “I would hate to see you lost.”

It isn’t enough. Surely later, he will apologize profusely, but for now, it is sufficient. Maybe Slaine will listen, or maybe he will not, but Harklight at least tried to show him his shortcomings.

They return to their room in silence, sleeping in separate beds for the first time in weeks. In his anxiousness, Harklight sleeps horribly. He dozes for a few hours before waking up, more exhausted than he was before going to sleep. Slaine sleeps restlessly, tossing back and forth under the covers.

Harklight frowns, but he forces himself to shut his eyes. Slaine will be fine come the morning; he doesn’t need Harklight to comfort him all the time.

But when Slaine finally wakes, dark bags linger under his eyes.

Harklight tries to suppress his guilt, but he nearly spouts apologizes until Slaine finally meets his gaze and mutters, “Sorry for my foolish heart.”

He grimaces, only able to respond with a nod. Every instinct begs him to hug his master, take away the burdens resting too heavy on his delicate shoulders, but he cannot.

He is not worthy, not after all he said.

“Harklight, I have my answer.”

Harklight can hardly breathe. “What is it?”

An awful smile crosses Slaine’s soft features, colored with cynicism too horrible for someone so young. “I don’t have anything I want. I have no dreams, not beyond the princess.”

“Slaine-”

“I’m fine with it.” Some of the bitterness fades away, leaving an odd lightness to his world-weary gaze. “If I have no dreams of my own, then I will work for yours.”

“Slaine, you shouldn’t-”

Slaine cuts him off with a wave of his hand, and for a minute, Harklight can barely believe his eyes. In that instant, Slaine almost… it was almost as if he was Count Saazbaum. “A world where those who have suffered under Vers will be free to live better existences. That dream… It’s a wonderful dream. If I cannot have peace, then perhaps I’ll build this beautiful world for all of you.”

“Milord.” Harklight gets down on one knee, as he had that day when he had been assigned to Slaine. “If that is your wish, then I vow to aid you in your endeavors. No matter how hard the fighting or how long the struggle, I will stay by your side until peace or death befalls me.”

“Mr. Harklight, don’t say such foolish things.” Slaine smiles his rather innocent smile, but he cannot hide the light blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m not worthy of such dedication.”

“Please, don’t call me that, Milord.”

“Only if you’ll stand up and call me Slaine.”

Harklight cannot keep the smile off his face as he stands up straight. “I suppose this is a futile battle.”

“Indeed.” Slaine grabs his jacket off his desk chair, sliding it on with ease. “Let’s head out, Harklight. Count Saazbaum will be overjoyed to hear the news.”

In the end, only Slaine speaks with Count Saazbaum. Harklight waits outside the room, watching the people pass with cautious eyes. Are they aware of the change that will soon pass, or do they still lie awake wondering why they continue to fight endless battles?

At last, Slaine and Count Saazbaum finally exit the office.  Neither speaks a word to him, but he follows them anyways. It’s his duty.

Even before they arrive, he can guess their destination. Surely the count does not wish to delay his plans any longer.

For the first time, Harklight’s heart thumps heavy in his chest. There’s no more perhaps or probably, there’s only anticipation.

Finally, finally, an end comes into view. Soldiers rallying behind Lemrina, one last campaign, and their war could be over. Vers could _win._ The thought seems rather ephemeral, but at heart, it’s the most tangible he’s had in a long time.

Princess Lemrina’s door slides open too soon, leaving Harklight unprepared for the reality he’ll soon place.

Thought at first, Lemrina perks up in her chair at the noise, she slumps back at the sight of the count. “Ah, Count Saazbaum.”

“Princess Lemrina,” the count announces, dropping into an uncharacteristically deep bow. Harklight and Slaine follow without prompting (it’s amazing how synchronized their movements are, even though they have not practiced).  “My sincerest apologizes for disrupting your afternoon.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. It’s not as if I have much to do anyways.” Harklight frowns; Lemrina’s not in one of her better moods today. “Have you come to pester me about playing Asseylum already?”

“Princess-”

“I knew it.” Lemrina wheels her chair around so she can face them with her sharp eyes. Her face consorts into something ugly, bitter beyond her years. “You only want me for my bloodline.” Little Eddelrittuo, who for once lingers by her new assignment, gasps, but the rest of them can do nothing more than gaze on in sorrow.

Lemrina isn’t the sort to disregard her emotions for the greater good.

“Have you prepared some outlandish dress for me already? Or are you just here for measurements.”

Count Saazbaum shakes his head. “It is much simpler than that.” As he pulls a necklace out of his pocket, Slaine and Eddelrittuo gape. Harklight does not understand. It’s a rather plain necklace, a strand of pearls with a few charms strung in alongside them, not anything worth marveling.

“A necklace?” Lemrina mirrors the confusion Harklight feels, examining the necklace with a careful eye. “Unless… Is this one of those Aldnoah pendants?”

Aldnoah pendants… Harklight’s never heard of such a thing. They would most definitely be too expensive for the likes of him to buy, so perhaps that’s it. But even if he had, why would he want one? Would it just supply power for some fancy jewelry lighting or make the necklace change colors or…

Oh. An appearance changer. That must be what the count gave her.

“It is. If you are so willing, would you test it now?”

Lemrina scowls, but she activates the Aldnoah anyways at his command. The room lights up too bright to keep watching; Harklight throws up a hand to shield his eyes. When his vision finally returns, his breath escapes him.

In Princess Lemrina’s place, Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia sits more alive than Harklight’s ever seen her. Slaine reaches out for a moment before retracting his hand, his eyes disbelieving.

“I see… Not bad.” Princess Lemrina smirks, marring another’s sweet face. “I suppose, if I speak my own words, I wouldn’t mind this.” She reverts back to her familiar appearance soon enough, her expression much more fitting on her own face. “When do you wish me to speak first?”

“Today.”

To Harklight’s amazement, Lemrina nods. “Very well. I will do my best, then.”

As the count leads them out, Harklight sighs in relief. At long last, they herald in change.

The alarms start blaring before they get to the press room.

Harklight turns to run towards the docks, but Count Saazbaum places a firm hand on his shoulder. “Slaine, will you be fine on your own? It is likely just a few UFE kataphrakts aiming at transport craft again.”

Slaine nods, his brows furrowed. “I will do my best on the battlefield.”

“Good hunting, Slaine!” Lemrina offers a smile at him, and Harklight should too, but Slaine has already dashed off towards his Kataphrakt. As he disappears, concern sets into a frown. “Should we delay the message?”

The count shakes his head. “Now is the perfect time. If we speak of the frivolous battle occurring outside, you may be able to persuade a few more hearts.”

Lemrina shuts her eyes, but she nods at Count Saazbaum’s words. “If that is my duty, then I will not let Slaine’s efforts be in vain.”

Harklight’s heart sinks at the light blush on her cheeks. Even now, she falls into love with a boy (no, a man now that he’s turned eighteen) she’s known for mere months…

Does it bother him because he wishes she would look at him that way? Surely that must be it, as strange as it is. The other is unthinkable.

As they finally reach the press hall, Lemrina escapes Eddelrittuo’s grip and wheels to the pedestal alone. “Beautiful,” she exhales, brushing a hand against polished wood. A light tap on the microphone amplifies to a boom, startling Harklight out of his awe. “I see you already prepared this.”

“Of course.” Count Saazbaum guides Harklight over to the side, right where they can watch Lemrina speak without being in the picture. Lemrina glances over at them, her posture tense.

She must be nervous beyond compare, finally being expected to speak for her people. Harklight nearly stands by her side to offer emotional support, but rationality stops him.

He cannot stay by Princess Lemrina’s side anymore. He is dedicated to Sir Slaine Troyard and whatever dreams he pursues, no matter the cost.

Lemrina must learn to fly on her own now.

“What should I say?”

“Whatever you feel will inspire our soldiers to keep fighting.” Count Saazbaum takes a step back, a calculating smirk crossing his aged face. “As Princess Asseylum, your words hold a lot of weight.”

“I see.” Bitterness colors Lemrina’s tone, but she quickly masks it with indifference. “Very well. Harklight, is there anything you would like me to add?”

The thoughtfulness stuns him, but in the end, all he can do is shake his head. “No matter what you say, Princess, I am sure it will be satisfactory.” He offers her a slight smile.

For once, she returns it.

But too soon, her gaze returns to the microphone in front of her and the empty atrium, waiting for her words to resound. “Greetings, my fellow citizens of Vers.”

Her voice echoes around the room as she sighs, looking too tired for a sixteen year-old girl.

“I, Princess Lemrina Vers Envers, will stand by the side of our brave soldiers, fighting for a better Vers, and for Sir Slaine Troyard, one such knight who fights now outside.”

As the words die, she shuts her eyes. Light cocoons her, dissipating to reveal the other princess. “I suppose you would prefer her to speak.”

Count Saazbaum’s smirk widens. “Whenever you’re ready, press the button, and your message will be sent to all the Versian forces.”

Lemrina nods at his words. She spares one last glance back at them, unfamiliar eyes watching them with an agedness that does not quite suit them.

Princess Lemrina may be Asseylum in appearance, but she will never compare in personality.

At last, Lemrina turns back to the microphone. “Wish me luck.”

With all his heart, Harklight prays Lemrina’s words will be successful. He tries not to think of Slaine, risking his life on the battlefield, or his family and friends back home, who will profit from shorter, victorious war, but they are all he can think of. Count Saazbaum watches intently beside him, hanging to the silence with an anticipation that must have been years in the making.

Lemrina finally presses the button, and the cameras roll. “Vers, it has been nineteen months since I have last spoken to you. But no matter what hardships and injuries I have struggled through since my time on Earth, I will always be your loyal princess, Asseylum Vers Allusia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I accidentally ended the last chapter at the wrong place, which means a longer chapter this time! It explains why I couldn't get word counts to add up last time. Oh well. Act Three was actually supposed to end with Harklight cleaning out Caius's things, in case if you were curious.
> 
> By the way, thank you so much for all the kind comments! I have a nasty habit of forgetting to reply to them individually, but they always make my day!
> 
> Next time, we finally enter into Season 2 territory and starting filling in the blanks.


	5. Act Five: Morning Glow

“I, Asseylum Vers Allusia, Princess of the Vers Empire, praise and commend all those Orbital Knights who have died in the name of that noble cause. Thanks to your valiant efforts, we progress closer towards our goals. Now, I ask of you, please continue to fight, brave soldiers, until the day we can finally step foot on Earth and call it our own. ”

To most, Princess Asseylum offers an earnest bow towards the camera.  But to Harklight, Princess Lemrina’s faint smirk is obvious.

When she straightens, her cool mask returns as if she had never let it slip. “Thank you.” 

Lemrina shuts off the cameras with a few flourishes, leaving the too empty press room in silence. Had he been in other company, perhaps he might have applauded. Her words had been wonderful, especially for someone unversed in the etiquette of public speaking.

Maybe for the first time (or perhaps he’s noticed but ignored it all along), she finally seems a princess in his eyes. Though the different body doesn’t suit her, she holds herself with a regality she never had in the shadows of the Moon Base or Landing Castle.

She glances sideways, a prideful grin widening on her face. But too soon, that satisfaction slips away as she hustles to dismantle the disguise.

The glow dies down to almost pink hair and radiant blue eyes, but Lemrina shines more lively than ever. As she turns to face them, he tries to smile but cannot.

Why does she slip through his fingers more and more as she accepts her role as princess?

“How was that, Count Saazbaum?” She asks, but all he hears is _I’m not just a deadweight anymore._

“Excellent, Princess Lemrina.” Saazbaum dips his head, but Harklight’s half a beat behind. Another curse of his foolish heart, he supposes. “You will certainly be useful.”

Lemrina’s grin fades, but she still offers a slight one to Harklight. “Do you hear that, Harklight? I’m useful now.”

“I never said you weren’t,” he retorts half-heartedly, but his mind focuses on the subtext. _I wasn’t useful before._ “Nicely done, Princess Lemrina. Your words were quite splendid.”

Her gaze softens once more (for once, he’s said something right). “You’re too kind, Harklight. I’m sure I will be able to do much better with practice.”

At last, Eddelrittuo speaks up, her quiet voice ringing loud from the room’s acoustics. “I thought you did an admirable job, Milady.” She’s still far too hesitant around Princess Lemrina, but it’s a far kinder gesture than she’s offered her new princess so far (at least as far as Harklight’s seen).

“There’s no need to lie to me.” Lemrina returns to her harsh smirk, eyes cold. “I know you aren’t too fond of me.”

Eddelrittuo cowers back, and Harklight shoots a pointed glare at the princess. Though he can tolerate Lemrina’s harsh words, the maid shies away even further.

She must have had a hard time getting used to such a change in masters, from a gentle heir to a bitter outcast. For perhaps the first time, Harklight almost pities her.

It’s only the verity of Lemrina’s words that stop him. No matter how painful it was to hear, Eddelrittuo has always prioritized her first princess over Lemrina.

“Eddelrittuo, if you would please return Princess Lemrina to her quarters, I would be most appreciative.” Saazbaum offers the young maid a rather kind smile, and she straightens up like a proper maid once again.

“Yes sir!” Eddelrittuo bows hastily, overeager in her desperation to seem unbothered. As she scrambles to take the princess away, Lemrina scowls at Harklight over her shoulder. All Harklight has to return is a shrug. She has no choice in the matter, no matter if she complains or not.

As Eddelrittuo pushes the princess out, Saazbaum finally turns to Harklight. He does not need to say anything for Harklight to know what must be done.

Harklight will return to Slaine’s side, as any obedient servant would. He bows, ready to take his leave, but Count Saazbaum halts him. “Let me accompany you, Harklight.”

It’s rather strange, walking alongside Count Saazbaum as if they’re equals. They’ve hardly conversed, except on reports and war, since Harklight started serving under Slaine, and even before that, their ranks kept class divisions strong.

He can’t say he’s comfortable with the situation, but at least it is not awkward. Count Saazbaum speaks little, his gaze focused completely on the world outside their glassy walls. Harklight almost smiles at the sight. There’s something about the way he looks out that’s just like Slaine, eyes lost in distant realities they’ll never reach.

Harklight can only imagine what worlds the count envisions among the stars.

“Harklight, what do you think of Sir Slaine?” Count Saazbaum stops, still gazing at the stars with that far-off look in his wise eyes. The resemblance to Slaine heightens, but it is the question that catches Harklight off-guard.

What does Harklight think of Slaine?

Too many things to ever speak of. How could he describe the way his heart fluttered as Slaine watched him with those brilliant eyes, or the way Slaine’s smile always seemed to bring an identical one to his lips? How could he explain the way his heart wrenches as Slaine closed himself off to the world once more? And how, how could he ever explain how much of his heart he had given away to Slaine without ruining the fragile equilibrium they have?

“I couldn’t ask for a better master,” he ends up saying, but his words hardly do it justice.

The count’s expression softens, and for a minute, Harklight can almost imagine a kinder man behind the rough exterior, someone who might have loved instead of waging war. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s become a fine young man.”

“Of course, sir. You’ve taught him quite well.”

Count Saazbaum chuckles at Harklight’s earnestness, but he does not comment. Instead, he rests a hand against the window and continues as if Harklight hadn’t spoken at all. “When I first met him, he was quite the little hellion. He had only just learned to walk, and already, he was causing trouble. Doctor Troyard would always scold him for running around my room, but I never minded. He served as a pleasant distraction to my recovery.”

Harklight has to stifle a gasp. The count knew Slaine Troyard from such a young age? But before he can any of his questions, Count Saazbaum answers them all. “During Heaven’s Fall, I fell to Earth. Were it not for Doctor Troyard’s kindness and quick medical aid, I would have died. I stayed with him while I recovered.”

“Did you take in Princess Lemrina then?” He vaguely recalls a conversation with her years ago, back when he had first met her. Her mother had been a Terran, and Lemrina would have been born after Gilzeria’s death…

“Indeed. Doctor Troyard, being known for his research on Aldnoah, tended to attract a certain sort of cliental on the side. Her mother approached him because of the nature of Princess Lemrina’s father, hoping her child might be of some use to his studies. Unfortunately, the mother passed away in childbirth, and Doctor Troyard did not have the means to raise two children. I took her in because of it.”

Slaine and Lemrina meeting in their youth, Count Saazbaum in debt to Doctor Troyard… it all seems like some wishful fantasy. But at the seriousness in the Count’s tone, Harklight cannot doubt their truthfulness.

“Amazing, isn’t it, how tightly a few stories wrap around each other?” Count Saazbaum smiles ruefully at the stars outside, his hand dropping back towards his side. “If he could see his son today, I’m sure Doctor Troyard would be proud.”

“Your guidance has helped him tremendously.” Beyond his obligatory affirming, Harklight genuinely means what he says. Without Count Saazbaum, Slaine would have ended up another casualty of their cruel world, beaten down by the system faced against him.

“I would hope.”  For a while, Count Saazbaum stays silent, his gaze never wandering from the window.  Harklight can only imagine what the count sees out there amongst the bright lights. “I’ve been thinking, Harklight.”

“About what, sir?”

“In a few days’ time, the Marineros Base and the Trident Base will pass close to each other. Likely, it will cause the first large-scale space battle we’ve fought in this war. Surely I will have to fight in it, alongside the Stygis Squadrons and Kataphraktoi available.”

Large-scale space battle? Harklight shudders at the thought. Though Slaine fights well, how could his trajectory prediction system handle multiple directions’ worth of bullet barrages?

“If I die as I am now, there will be no one to succeed me. Surely nasty politics will occur to fill my position, and by that point, our limited unity will splinter. I’d like to avoid that if possible.” At last, Count Saazbaum tears his gaze from the window and looks Harklight in the eye. “There is no one I would rather succeed me than Sir Slaine Troyard.”

Harklight can barely breathe as the words register. If Count Saazbaum were to die… Slaine would be the most powerful count in Vers. With such power, he could accomplish almost anything... Harklight’s hopes sink as reality occurs to him.

“But sir, there is no way he would ever get selected to be your successor. Only family is guaranteed to succeed a Count’s position.”

Count Saazbaum smirks, a twinkle returning to his wise gaze. “Exactly. I plan to adopt Slaine.”

Slaine Saazbaum Troyard… The name fits far too well. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, sir.” And it is, Harklight must admit, just not necessarily in the way Count Saazbaum intends.

How easy would it be to accidentally take out Count Saazbaum on the battlefield? A few rogue bullets carefully directed, a trap laid out by a doting son…

Was this how Count Saazbaum felt as he plotted Princess Asseylum’s murder?

For the first time in months, his doubts towards Count Saazbaum return. Though Count Saazbaum never admitted any responsibility in the acts, without a doubt, he played a role in them. He had to.

Princess Asseylum would have never been shot if he was innocent.

“Good. At the Marineros Base, I will be sure to make the announcement publically. That way, there will be no post-mortem arguing over my decision.” Before Harklight can think of commenting on his decision, Count Saazbaum strides ahead as if he had never stopped at all. “Are you coming, Harklight?”

Harklight hesitates only a moment longer, pushing out the treasonous thoughts still lingering in the back of his mind. Slaine will expect him to be waiting the minute the fighting’s over, and Harklight has no plans to disappoint.

To his amazement, the Kataphraktoi launch deck is empty when they arrive. Not a single worker lingers on the walkway or on the deck. The usual workers are probably more focused on the supply ships, Harklight presumes after another inspection of the empty room. They are much more likely to be damaged than the Tharsis.

Tharsis returns soon enough, and even without doing a careful inspection, he knows it’s in pristine condition. He would expect nothing less of Slaine. A smooth landing and a few pleasantries from Count Saazbaum later, and Slaine finally glides in front of them, falling into a bow immediately.

The flattery Count Saazbaum doles on Slaine brings a bitter taste to Harklight’s mouth. How could he ever think of murdering a man who treats his master with proper respect? Trying not to frown too much, Harklight forces himself to pay attention once more. Surely Slaine will say something, and he can respond like a good servant, and then it’ll be as if he never thought of treason.

“How did the battle go?”

Slaine straightens up at Count Saazbaum’s question, no trace of guilt in his voice. “I destroyed some four enemy units.”

“Quite a coup, Milord.” Harklight smiles as he dips his head in reverence. Slaine’s victories will keep his mind distracted for a long while, long enough all treasonous thoughts will slip his mind.

Of course, Slaine decides to ruin that ideal with his own complaints. “Stop that, Mr. Harklight.”

Harklight lifts his head, unsure whether or not he’s more startled or irritated by Slaine’s sharp words. Slaine deserves the praise, no matter how lowly he thinks of himself. But as Slaine stares at him with soft eyes, any irritation Harklight feels slips away. Slaine would have never meant his words in malice.

“There’s no need for ‘milord’ with me.”

No matter how many times Slaine insists, Harklight can never completely drop the formalities. Count Saazbaum would never approve. And even if he did, it’s Harklight’s duty to show his master his respect, especially since no one else will. Alone, perhaps, he can forget them like he vowed, but not together.  “That won’t do, Milord. I am your manservant.”

“But you’re older than I am, and… I’m a Terran.”

Harklight struggles not to sigh. He’s long past the point of caring that Slaine is a Terran. Birthplace matters little to him, and Slaine has long since proved himself worthy of more respect than most Versians. “That does not change the fact that you are a knight, Milord.”

Count Saazbaum nods at Harklight’s words; the subtle approval hardly relieves him. “And I ask that you refrain from using ‘mister’ with me, Milord Slaine.”

Slaine smiles at his words, his gaze too soft. Would he still think so highly of Harklight if he knew Harklight’s treasonous considerations?

Harklight does not find out, not for a long while. Count Saazbaum keeps them busy, and Princess Lemrina demands much of their attention when they’re free.

 If this is what the war progressing means, Harklight isn’t sure he likes it.

As if to get away from the stress, Slaine visits princess Asseylum more and more. Time and time again, Slaine gives Harklight permission to follow him in, but more than ever, Harklight turns Slaine down.

He does not wish to see Slaine grieve even more.

In quiet one day when Slaine’s away doing checks on the Tharsis, Count Saazbaum off-handedly mentions, “The doctors say that if Princess Asseylum doesn’t awaken soon, they will have no choice but to take her off life support. There is nothing more they can do, and keeping her alive any longer will only delay the inevitable.”

Harklight frowns at Count Saazbaum’s news. “Does Sir Slaine know?”

The Count shakes his head. “I don’t wish to tell him unless it comes to that. We cannot afford him to lose focus on the battlefield because of grief.”

Before Harklight can think of a response, Slaine returns, and the room falls into an amicable silence. But as he leaves Slaine alone once more with Princess Asseylum, all that comes to mind are Count Saazbaum’s words, and he worries once more.

While Slaine admires his sleeping princess worrilessly, Harklight cannot avoid the plots lingering in his mind. He returns to their room and scrawls notes across pieces of paper, tearing most to shreds before throwing them away.

His math skills are rusty, but a plan begins to form on the sheets of paper. Firing bullets into orbit so that they’d slingshot around right at the time the UFE and Vers would clash into space. Luring Count Saazbaum into the trap under the guise the enemy has hurt Slaine. Murder disguised as an accident with fast-moving space debris.

And with Slaine soon to be Count Saazbaum’s son…

No, Harklight can’t possibly think of such things. It’s unbecoming of him, especially when his math is still filled with errors.

He tears up another sheet and starts again with the numbers.

_T = 6 hrs = 21,600 s_

_M Earth = 5.98 x 1024 kg_

_G = 6.673 x 10 -11 Nm2/kg2_

_R Earth = 6.37 x 106 m_

Referencing his handwritten sheet of equations, he plugs them in again.

To ensure a six-hour period before the bullets hit, Slaine would have to fire them 10,400 km from Earth’s surface at 4868 m/s.

The numbers are the same as last time. Of course he didn’t make an error; he was top of the class. Still, he tears up the sheet and throws it away once again. It has to be wrong. He’ll have to redo his calculations again (because if they’re right, he doesn’t want the knowledge).

He scrawls on sheets of paper for a long while, but he always makes sure to hide all traces of plotting underneath the spare mattress before Slaine returns. It would do no good for his master to get caught up in his horrible thoughts. Soon enough, they will be swept away by fighting, and Harklight’s plan will be meaningless. He can forget it ever existed.

But a few nights later, as they pack for their stay at the Marineros Base, Harklight slips the papers into his bag. Slaine glances over as Harklight sets the mattress back down. “Letters from your family?”

Harklight can’t answer for too long. Saying yes would be a lie, but telling the truth would end in nothing good.

Should he lie?

“Something of the sort,” he replies, unable to suppress the bitter taste in his mouth.

Slaine returns to his work again as if he hadn’t spoken at all, but Harklight cannot. He lied to Slaine.

_He lied to Slaine._

When Slaine finally falls asleep, Harklight gets out of bed and turns on the little desk light. It casts shadows across the workspace, but the limited glow allows enough light to write.

He pulls out a piece of paper and starts a letter.

 _Dear Mother and Father_ ,

He pauses. What should he write? He hasn’t written to them in years, not since he learned how difficult communication with their families was for soldiers. There is so much he could tell them, so many stories that would take hundreds of pages to finish.

He can only write two measly sentences.

_It has been so long since I’ve last heard from you. I hope all is still well with you back home on Vers._

With a sigh, he crumples up the page and throws it away.  How can he possibly write home when he has still not fulfilled their dreams? And as he spares a glance back at his sleeping master, regret stabs him. How could he write of Slaine when Slaine had gradually filled their spots in his heart?

In the end, he returns to bed without a single word written. He doesn’t fall asleep that night (he ends up watching the rise and fall of Slaine’s chest and wondering, wondering how such a gentle man could bear such hell without shattering into a million pieces).

Slaine finally awakes as Harklight drifts into unconsciousness. “Harklight? Are you up?”

Harklight blinks his eyes open once again, exhaustion keeping them from opening more than a crack.

“Are you ready to leave the Moon Base?”

It is far too early for words, but Harklight manages a nod.

“I… I wish we didn’t have to.” Slaine sits up with a yawn, his not-quite-blue, not-quite-green eyes shining in the room’s faint glow. “Did you hear? About the Orange Kataphraktos?”

The name snaps Harklight firmly to the waking world. As he sits straight up, his eyes fly wide open.  “The Orange Kataphraktos? Didn’t you kill the pilot?”

A frown mars Slaine’s soft face. “Not well enough. He was apparently responsible for Baron Yacoym’s death yesterday.”

“At least the likelihood of him showing up in the battle between the Marineros and Trident Bases is low. Considering his accomplishments and his injuries, the UFE will want to protect him for more important operations.”

Slaine just shakes his head; Harklight’s heart sinks. “I’m sure he’ll want to find Princess Asseylum. He’s stubborn too. Even if the UFE orders him explicitly to stay on Earth, I’m sure he’ll find some way to get into space.”

“You don’t have to fight him.” _Please don’t fight him,_ Harklight longs to say, but Slaine will never listen to reason on this. Slaine’s guided by his heart, no matter how well he’s learned to use his mind. Isn’t that why he continues to visit Princess Asseylum and pray for her recovery, so many months after she suffered the bullet wounds?

“I have to kill him. If I don’t, who will?”

“Any number of soldiers. They’re all aware of how dangerous he is.”

Slaine sighs, but he manages a weary smile anyways. “They’ll try, but Orange’ll target me specifically. I tried to kill him. I went after his precious princess. I-”

“And if that happens, you’ll do what must be done.” Harklight can’t sit listening to Slaine’s self-deprecation any longer. None of this is Slaine’s fault, no matter how much he tries to prove his wrongdoings. He did as his heart guided him, as anyone else would.

Somehow, the utter confidence in Slaine’s decisions startles him a lot less than before.

“If it means you kill Orange, you kill him. This is war.” Harklight offers Slaine an almost smile, but Slaine doesn’t return it. “I trust you’ll do the right thing, Slaine. You’ll see you dreams through, no matter how you face this obstacle.”

“I’d like to think that,” Slaine finally replies, his gaze dropping to the side. His voice shakes a little, but it’s still beautiful, more beautiful than any voice Harklight’s heard.  “I’d like to think that, but I don’t know. Don’t you remember Harklight? I have no dreams of my own.”

Harklight would like to say more, but there is nothing left to say. They have little time left to chatter, little time left for mindless musings. Too soon, they will have to meet Count Saazbaum for departure, and it’ll be as if this conversation never happened at all.

Slaine will become Sir Slaine Troyard once more, and he will be just another loyal servant. That’s who they must be, no matter how much Harklight longs otherwise.

They leave together, off to get Lemrina for unit activation. She barely puts up a struggle; Harklight suspects the chance to be in limited gravity entices her more than her usual hatred of her bloodline.

Without a fight, she performs her duties well enough. She even follows Count Saazbaum to the Emperor’s audience chamber and speaks with her grandfather (Harklight isn’t allowed in, but the mere thought of her entering the room leaves him plenty shocked). Count Saazbaum dismisses her after she finishes, but she lingers behind while Count Saazbaum and Slaine enter the chamber.

“I’ll miss you, Harklight,” she murmurs, brushing one of her delicate hands over his. He shivers under her touch. “Keep Sir Slaine safe for me, will you?”

“I will do my best, Princess Lemrina.” She smiles, no trace of cruelty in it for once. “Take care of yourself too.”

“I will.” Her smile turns to a smirk. Harklight can’t fathom why, but he’s sure it’s nothing good. “I’ll make sure I’m taken care of well.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Good hunting, Harklight,” she calls as she starts to wheel away. His lips turn up; he doesn’t need well wishes with Slaine by his side.

With Slaine, all he can see are bright futures. Slaine will not fail him now.

When Slaine finally exits the chamber with Count Saazbaum, they head for the hanger. No one speaks to pass the time. Battle looms too close for pleasantries and idle chatter.

Though they enter the hanger together, all three go their separate ways. Harklight heads towards his craft (the first he’s piloted since war broke out) to perform final checks. The soldiers pay him little heed as he passes, muttering greetings under their breath. He offers the same in return.

As he glides by, a familiar voice catches his attention. He pauses against the wall, glancing down at the supposedly empty part of the hanger. To his bewilderment, Princess Lemrina stands below, and across from her, Slaine. Neither should be there. “Slaine?”

The whispered name goes unheard by the both of them. They’re too caught up in the conversation, spoken loud enough he can make out. It’s the usual argument with Lemrina; her blood factor is more important than she is. But once again, Slaine surprises him with his understanding. He drops to the ground and reveals his scars (if only a small fraction of the many that lacerate his back and chest). Lemrina gasps, but she’s won over.

Harklight had been the same.

When Lemrina kisses Slaine, Harklight forces himself to keep moving. He shouldn’t have watched their private little conversation.

And if ugly feelings well up in his heart, he suppresses them as best he can. He has no claim to Slaine, no matter how much he would like to say otherwise.

He settles in his craft and boots the control station up automatically. It’s just as he remembers it. The plan runs through his head once again. Slingshot around the Earth and reach the Marineros base by passing close to the Trident Base. It’s nothing difficult, something he had to practice a number of times during his training days.

The only difference is that this time, there’s no failure.  There’s only success or death.

The Tharsis registers on Harklight’s controls, and immediately, he presses opens the comm channel. “Milord Slaine.”

The others in the ship glance over his way at his words, but they quickly return to their duties. Slaine offers an apologetic smile, his gaze too soft for a soldier about to enter battle. “I apologize for the delay.”

“That display was touching. I am proud that you are my master.”

Slaine laughs a little nervously, his cheeks flushing. “You saw that? How embarrassing.” The Tharsis lifts off at that, Count Saazbaum’s order for launch right behind.

The operation goes as planned.  Harklight offers orders as necessary, but most of his attention is spent operating the controls properly. As they exit Earth’s orbit, he finally relaxes. Getting past the Trident Base will be easy enough, especially considering Count Saazbaum ordered the Stygis Squadron’s deployment.

Harklight focuses on the space ahead, ignoring the violet and orange flashes of fire. He expects little to come to pass; the wind registering on the radar are too strong for much to hit.

Disbelief settles in as fiery explosions mark the path in front of him. “The Stygis Platoon, it’s…”

He trails off as the view goes blindingly bright in front of them. A boom resounds. Almost immediately, warning signs flash on the corner of Harklight’s monitor.  They’ve been hit, as impossible as it should be.

Slaine leaps in front of them almost immediately afterwards. He opens the comm channel up again, his expression grave. “Are you alright, Count?”

“Slaine,” Count Saazbaum exclaims, unable to keep the worry out of his tone.

“I will act as a decoy to draw their fire.” Harklight almost considers protesting, but Slaine turns the Tharsis around too quickly. “Mr. Harklight, take evasive action.”

“Understood.” Harklight returns his focus to the controls, but a part of him is left worrying for his master, fighting in the thick of battle with a sharpshooter on the enemy’s side. Without a doubt, Slaine will hunt down the Kataphraktos. There’s only one pilot it can be.

Harklight doesn’t want to think what will happen if Slaine’s really gone out to fight Orange.

But somehow, someway, they make it out alive. Harklight finally reunites with Slaine after they dock, a little wearier but both still unharmed. One of the soldiers leads them to their quarters off in an isolated hallway. He’s gone before Harklight can even thank him, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

As Slaine unpacks his limited luggage, he mentions, “Orange fought in today’s battle.”

Harklight glances up with his bag, the confirmation doing nothing to set him at ease. “I had wondered… So you will have to fight him tomorrow.”

“Indeed.” Slaine sets down the last item with a sigh. “I suppose I have to get rid of him somehow, but his aim is incredible. Even with Tharsis, it will be hard to avoid taking damage.”

“Will your usual strategies not work?” Even before Harklight asks the question, he can anticipate the answer.

Orange has always been known for his quick thinking and brilliant strategies.

“No. He’s too cunning. To defeat him, I need to outsmart him… I don’t have enough time to think of anything, though. The UFE Kataphraktoi are weak, but he’s too capable a pilot to succumb to inevitable defeat.”

As Harklight pulls out his papers, a smirk comes to his lips. Finally, they will have a use. “Prior to leaving the Moon Base, I worked on some calculations for a trap.”

Slaine pauses, turning to face Harklight with an incredulous gaze. “A trap?”

Harklight places his papers face up on the desk. When they’re all laid out, there’s no extra room, not even for a piece of scratch paper to fix errors. Slaine joins him there, examining the documents carefully.

“About six hours before the battle, we should have the launch dock to ourselves. Most people will be sleeping, and those who are not will be strategizing. In that time, you would slip out and fire bullets at a specific set of coordinates.”

“Which ones?”

Harklight points to a pair of coordinates on the top right-hand corner of one of the papers. “Those. “

“And you intend for me to shoot the bullets into orbit so they’ll reach their starting point in the middle of the battle?”

“Exactly. If you lured Orange into your trap alone, it would be impossible to escape.”

“And he would never notice since he would be following me…” Slaine gazes at Harklight, his eyes lit with an odd sort of look. “This is genius, Harklight.”

Pride, Harklight realizes. Slaine watches him with pride.

A smile comes to his lips, despite the morbid nature of their conversation. “Thank you, Slaine.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you. This is perfect. The only problem will be ensuring the bullets travel fast enough, but with Aldnoah, I doubt that will be much of a concern.” Slaine returns the smile as he picks up one of the papers. “How did you come up with it?”

Harklight freezes. He can’t explain his conversation with Count Saazbaum to Slaine, not when the count has not acted on his words. Still, he tries his best to answer. “Count Saazbaum helped with its creation.” By being the target.

“I see.” Slaine sits back on his bed with paper in hand, studying the diagram carefully. Harklight relaxes; his half-truths had gone unnoticed. “You won’t be fighting tomorrow, will you?”

“They have some spare units, so I will be on standby in case if back-up is needed. I doubt such a thing will happen though.” He hardly understands the need. It won’t be a long battle, considering the short time-frame they have before the bases drift apart once more. If Versian forces start losing, there won’t be enough time to bring out back-up.

All they’d be able to do is recover the fragments and, if they’re particularly lucky, the bodies.

“That’s good.” Slaine lies back on the bed with a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. “Wake me up when we need to start moving again.”

“Of course, Slaine.” Though Harklight can’t explain it, watching Slaine drift to sleep saddens him. Such a young man shouldn’t be exhausted by war’s trials. He should be living life, doing whatever Terrans do at his age, instead of fighting a brutal war.

Harklight gathers up his papers, even the one tucked in Slaine’s hands, and puts them away in his bag. No one but the two of them needs to see them.

For the first time in a while, Harklight slips into the empty bed to sleep. He slips into a blur of dreams, remembering nothing but a pleasant warmth in his heart when he awakens.

Harklight checks the clock as soon as clarity returns. It’s still early, leaving them plenty of time to prepare the trap. A quick glance to the other bed shows Slaine already awake, reading a document blearily.

They get ready in silence, the magnitude of the upcoming battle weighing heavily on their shoulders. By the time they reach the hanger, only a few people mill around. Harklight takes a position in the communication center as Slaine readies his Tharsis. One of the operators spares him an odd glance, but she says nothing.

Harklight slips on a headset and waits for Slaine’s voice to crackle over the channel.  At last, his master speaks. “Ready for launch, Mr. Harklight.”

Even though no one’s likely to be listening, Harklight keeps up his formalities too. “You’re cleared, Milord. Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.” As Slaine travels towards the coordinates, Harklight sends two programs to Slaine. One charts the orbit of the bullets, the other counts the time to zero. “Thank you, Mr. Harklight.”

“You’re welcome.” Harklight turns his attention back to the monitor, watching the Tharsis approach its destination. Right on cue, it stops and fires the bullets, two rounds of them. One will stop the Kataphraktoi; the other will ensure their demise.

The Tharsis turns around on screen and returns to base. Harklight takes off the headset before Slaine gets back. The launch dock fills up already with workers performing their checks, and more than once, he has to mutter apologies for getting into their way.

One of the mechanics catches Harklight as he awaits Slaine’s arrival. “Could you check to make sure these damage reports from the skirmish yesterday match what you saw?”

Harklight scans through the list of damages carefully. “They look fine. There weren’t any strange damages noted in your scans, were there?”

“No. They check out with everything you reported. It will be a quick fix, and you’ll be set to return safely to the Moon Base.”

“Good…” Harklight trails off as he catches sight of the Tharsis landing. “See to it.”

“Yes, sir!”

Harklight leaps up to the Tharsis’s cockpit as it opens. When Slaine finally looks up, Harklight offers a smile as he holds open the door. Slaine springs up, grasping the door close enough that his hand brushes Harklight’s. “Welcome back, Milord.”

“I clustered my shots in the region that you calculated, Mr. Harklight.”

“Let us pray that they won’t be influenced by some unexpected wind.” There’s little praying that needs to be done. Harklight checked the monitors for that too, and conditions seem clear.

“Ah, I thought I smelled something. A dog has snuck aboard.” Harklight glares as he catches sight of the counts on the catwalk. Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz.

Though he’s never had the privilege of meeting either, he’s heard enough about them to dislike them. Rather young and impudent for counts, they were also known for their highly critical opinions of Terrans.

Harklight tries not to listen too closely to their rudeness. Their attitudes are enough to irritate him. But when Count Marylcian swings his sword at Slaine, he has to bite his lip to keep from screaming curses (none of which would end well for him).

To his relief, Count Saazbaum steps in. Almost immediately, it’s as if their entire demeanors change. Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz become much more respectful.

But in the end, it’s Slaine who ruins the peace with his sharp tongue. Count Marylcian draws his sword at Slaine’s impudence, and Harklight prepares to spring into action. He cannot let Slaine be hurt, no matter if it costs him his position or his life.

“Men!” Count Saazbaum’s call halts any thoughts of murder. The entirety of the launch dock falls silent at his announcement. “Hear me, all of you! By the grace of the emperor of Vers, I name Slaine Troyard my son right here and now.”

Disbelief crosses Slaine’s expression while both counts gasp at Count Saazbaum’s words. Harklight tries to act shocked, but there is hardly anything surprising about this. Count Saazbaum’s announcement was inevitable.

Slaine stands at the Count’s command, leaving Count Marylcian no choice but to admit defeat. As he sheathes his sword, Harklight relaxes. At least for now, things will remain peaceful.

Harklight doesn’t stand until Count Saazbaum finally leaves. His head whirls. Now that Count Saazbaum’s made Slaine his son… his plot fulfills the original plan.

Kill Count Saazbaum so Slaine inherits his title.

“Congratulations, Milord Slaine,” he announces, and Slaine startles. “The count’s heir… this puts you one step closer to your dream.” _To our dream._

“That’s enough, Mr. Harklight.” Harklight can’t miss the way Slaine’s voice wavers. “I don’t have any dreams.”

But Slaine smirks, his eyes lit with understanding, and Harklight knows they’re on the same page.

Where there is Orange, Count Saazbaum will be too. From there, luring them both into the trap would be too easy. All Orange would have to do is disable the barrier, a feat he’s done multiple times, and they would both be killed.

It’s almost too perfect to believe.

Still, he whispers his thoughts to Slaine as they reach the Tharsis. Slaine merely nods. “Best of luck, Mr. Harklight.”

“Good hunting, Milord Slaine.” Slaine enters the Tharsis with one last wave.

Harklight turns around and heads to the other launch dock. When he arrives, the mechanics already wait for him by a spare unit, checklists in hand. “All checked,” the closest mechanic states as Harklight opens the vessel’s cockpit. “You’re safe for launch as needed.”

“Thank you.” Harklight glides into the vessel and turns on the system. The Stygis unit blinks to life, the readings already starting. He takes a moment to reorient himself to the controls. He hasn’t operated a Stygis craft since his training days.

But by the time he’s finished refreshing the functions of the controls, an order crackles over his comm. “All units, retreat. The Trident Base is out of range.”

Harklight exits the craft as quickly as he entered, barely sparing a minute to thank the mechanics once again before he returns to Slaine’s side.

The minute Slaine steps out of the Kataphraktos, he knows something’s gone wrong. Slaine appears on the verge of tears, clenching and unclenching his hands repeatedly. “Milord, how did it go?”

Slaine just shakes his head. “Count Saazbaum was caught in it, but Kaizuka Inaho escaped.”

Harklight gasps. How? How could they have failed to kill Orange?

“My sincerest condolences,” Harklight offers, wrapping an arm around Slaine’s shoulders. Though the mechanics and soldiers glare at him, they silence as Harklight announces, “Sir Slaine Troyard has come back with grave news! Count Saazbaum was killed by a cloud of high-speed debris in battle today! He died with honor. His death is a great loss for all of us!”

The whole dock falls silent at Harklight’s words. As Harklight lead Slaine through the crowds of people, murmurs pick up until one brave soul finally asks, “Then will Sir Troyard succeed him?”

Harklight stops as Slaine’s eyes widen. Had Slaine not realized he would take his father’s place? “Yes, he will.”

Though most stared on with shock, a few of the soldiers bowed, their words whispered through the ranks like a breeze. “Count Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.”

Slaine barely acknowledges it, barely notices anything until they finally return to their temporary quarters. Harklight grimaces as Slaine punches the wall in front of him, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. “Damnit.”

“Slaine,” Harklight soothes, uncertain about what he should say. He suggested the whole plot to Slaine, he urged him to kill not just Orange but Count Saazbaum as well. “You did what you had to.”

“He was my father. He adopted me and I just killed him for it!” Slaine turns around, watery eyes not quite meeting Harklight’s worried gaze. “Did you know? Did you know he was going to make me his son?”

Guilt gnaws at Harklight as he finally finds the courage to speak the truth. “I knew weeks before the battle. That’s why I made the plot. I never thought… I never thought I would end up using it.”

Slaine collapses to his bed, pressing his head against his hands. “Damnit, damn it all.”

Harklight sits down next to Slaine and tries his best to comfort him. He takes Slaine into his arms, not thinking of the gains, not thinking of home. All that matters is Slaine as he rubs circles into the new count’s shoulders and feels his own shoulder dampen with tears. At last, Slaine falls asleep, tear tracks still marring his gentle face.

Harklight tucks his master in as quietly as he can before he returns to his own. At last, he allows himself to grieve. For as much as he wished for Count Saazbaum to be gone, he rather liked the man. Count Saazbaum had taken him in when most would not, given him opportunities beyond compare. To his amazement, tears begin to fall as he reminisces.

Furiously, he wipes them away, but they don’t stop until he slips into a restless slumber.

When Harklight awakes, Slaine’s already gone, probably whisked away to finalize death things. He takes the isolation to start on his own project. He hunts down the uniform room, searching for any spare count coats. To his relief, in the back, he finds a single one, still in pristine condition. It’s a little large for Slaine, but nothing Harklight can’t handle.

Though he hasn’t done much sewing since he lived on Vers, he pulls out his sewing kit and starts to tailor. For comparison, he pulls out one of Slaine’s knight jackets.

He takes in the jacket at the waist first, moving from the waist to the sleeves to the shoulders until the jacket’s finally finished. Slaine doesn’t return until late, long after Harklight’s finished working.

“The funeral’s tomorrow. I’ll be speaking from the press room here to all the Orbital Knights.” Bags have started to form under Slaine’s eyes, and Harklight can’t help but worry. “I haven’t even started writing a speech.”

“Whatever you say will be magnificent, Slaine.”

“They said I need to outline my goals as a count as part of it, considering I will inherit Count Saazbaum’s prominence as well. That’s the part that worries me.”

“Do you not still wish for peace with Earth, as your princess wanted?”

Slaine sighs as he reclines back on his bed. “It’s not a matter of personal wishes. Striving for peace is almost impossible at this point. If I were to change platforms so drastically, I would lose my credibility. No, the only choice I have is to continue the war.”

“Then if you can’t speak for her dreams, then whose did you kill Count Saazbaum for?”

“That’s the thing, Harklight. I don’t know anymore. You and Princess Lemrina dream of a peaceful Vers with Earth’s resources, do you not?” Harklight nods, though Slaine doesn’t see it. “It’s all starting to blur together, the princess’s dreams and yours. What you want, what she wants, what I want… I couldn’t tell you.”

“No matter how we feel, it’s what you want that matters.” Harklight sinks to one knee, bowing with as much respect as he can muster so late at night. “Slaine, no matter what you choose, I will always stay loyal to you.”

Slaine lifts his head, fixing his weary stare on Harklight. “Neither of us have any right to speak of loyalty anymore.”

Harklight stays bowed for a long time as Slaine’s words sink in. They’re horribly, horribly true. The moment they made their decisions to kill Count Saazbaum, they threw away all semblance of loyalty. In the end, he lifts his head and poses one last question. “If we cannot be loyal, then what is left for us to be?”

Slaine doesn’t answer.

The next morning, Harklight doesn’t watch the broadcast. He prepares the coat instead, folding it and unfolding it a number of times until it finally looks perfect. There is no turning back now, he thinks as he leaves their room behind. The minute he hands over the jacket, it will be the end of Sir Slaine Troyard.

He can no longer imagine who Count Slaine Saazbaum Troyard will be.

He waits for Slaine in the hallway, coat weighing heavily in his hands. It takes a while for Slaine to approach, gaze down. As he finally sees Harklight, he lifts his tired eyes with only mild surprise. Though Harklight longs to speak informally, he cannot.

Slaine is no longer the Slaine he knew.

“Milord, you must be exhausted.” Like a model servant, he holds out the jacket with one hand to Slaine.

Slaine doesn’t take it right away, barely sparing it a glance before he asks, “Mr. Harklight, you were born into the third class, weren’t you?”

For a moment, Harklight can only think of Princess Lemrina and her tests. Asking questions she knew the answer to, seeing how he or whatever poor victim she picked responded. Surely Slaine does the same thing now; how can he know who to trust after what he’s done? What _they’ve_ done?

“I was,” Harklight finally responds. “Though they were poor and of a low class, my father and mother worked hard to raise me and used every means at their disposal so that I could serve the Orbital Knights.”

In all their planning, could they have ever imagined the path Harklight followed? Would they still be proud of his accomplishments if they knew the blood that stained his hands?

Even if they won’t, Harklight will continue following his path. He owes that much to Slaine, who’s finally done the impossible.

“Milord, it is for that reason I have the upmost respect for you. You, who have attained the rank of count even though you are a Terran.”

Slaine shuts his eyes, saying nothing of Harklight’s praises. He steps forward and snatches the jacket out of his hands with one fluid movement. But instead of leaving, he pauses, his back still to Harklight.

Harklight lowers his hands. He’s said too much. Slaine will walk away without looking back, and everything they built will be ruined.

But to his amazement, Slaine does not of that.“This new era will be for people like us.”

Harklight freezes, the words resonating in his head. _This new era will be for people like us._

Their dreams are one in the same.

“Let’s begin, Harklight.” Slaine finally drops the honorifics; for once, he’ll keep his side of the promise (and Harklight never will, not when there’s two ranks between them now).

A smile crosses his lips. There’s no turning back for either of them now. “Yes… Count Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.”

Slaine strides forward, the scarlet coat wrapped around his shoulders like a cape, and Harklight follows one step behind. There’s no escaping it; they’re count and servant now, heading towards the same future.

Though they’ve paid so much, this world will finally be theirs to mold. No more suffering, no more starvation.

At long last, Harklight reaches out and grasps his dreams.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late! I had to do some physics in writing it, and that dropped my motivation down a lot. Next week's should be up normal time Tuesday.
> 
> So, we finally enter into Season 2 territory! For scenes that occurred in canon, I stuck with the original dialogue in case you're wondering why things sounded familiar. There's probably two chapters left after this (but don't quote me on that I tend to underestimate). 
> 
> Those numbers for Harklight's plot are actual numbers calculated (with Kepler's laws) from the period given in the show and the known values of Earth's mass and radius. I didn't just make them up. :) If you could plausibly fire bullets at that velocity, it'd work great (good thing there's Aldnoah to solve that problem!).


	6. Act Six: All That Glitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: there's some brief Slaine/Lemrina in this chapter.

“Status?”

Harklight bows his head at the count, not daring to let his gaze rise. “There are no complaints amongst the other counts. Most seemed rather calm about the turn of events.”

“Are those their official statements you were looking at?”

“Yes, sir. Out in the open, none have made comments on it. This excludes Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz, both of whom openly expressed dissent about a Terran ascending to Count in my presence. However, they have not openly opposed you specifically.  ”

“I figured as much. What do you think, Harklight?”

Harklight finally lifts his head with a sigh. Even now, Slaine does not look at him. His attention’s focused on the screens in front of him, flashing by with news of the war’s progression. “Now that you’re settling into your position, it would be too much hassle for most Counts to outright oppose you. You inherited Count Saazbaum’s position and prestige, and most would rather watch and see how you carry out your goals before creating a feud.”

“In your opinion, there’s nothing to fear?”

“Perhaps watch Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz. They’re particularly outspoken in their beliefs and have garnered a lot of allies for it. Count Barouhcruz is especially respected, despite Count Marylcian being considered the voice of the two of them.”

Slaine sighs as he flicks the screens off. “I’d disagree. They’re simply silent in their loathing, the counts.  I presume they only gave me a respectful time for mourning so they don’t lose credibility when they strike.”

“A generous notion, Milord.” Though they are alone, Slaine doesn’t correct him anymore. Harklight already misses their playful arguing.

Count Saazbaum’s death changed Slaine, and Harklight doesn’t like it at all.

He doesn’t mourn, doesn’t cry beyond that first night. Slaine gets up in the morning from his separate bed, and for the first time, reality sinks in. Though they were sleeping apart at the Marineros Base, they had been together on the Moon Base.

Now, there’s no way they can do such a thing anymore. Slaine will inherit Count Saazbaum’s quarters in all their majesty, and Harklight will be left with an empty room that isn’t even his. He can’t even return to his old room; they’ve already reassigned it.

“A threat, I would say.” Finally, Slaine turns and faces Harklight. His haunted gaze lands to the left of Harklight; Slaine never looks him in the eye anymore. “You’re competent with cryptanalysis, correct?”

“Fairly competent. However, I know a few soldiers who excel at it. If you’d like, I could-”

“That’s good enough.”  Harklight nearly flinches as Slaine flings out his hand to silence him. It’s as if he’s become… “If you would, please look into the Deucalion’s instructions. Also, while you’re at it, see when the next supply ships will reach the Trident Base and what they’ll be carrying.”

“As you wish, Milord.” As he bows, Harklight struggles to keep the worry off his face. There are no explanations anymore; the change in rank increased Slaine’s self-confidence tenfold. Whatever he plans, it is beyond Harklight’s knowledge. As if it was part of the position, Slaine inherited Count Saazbaum’s personality too, his thoughts becoming increasingly unreadable. “Is there any other way I could be of service?”

Slaine spares a glance back at the piles of paper littering his desk before he shakes his head. “I just have paperwork left to finish now.”

Once, Slaine would have asked Harklight to help him work through the papers.

Harklight bites his cheek before he blurts out anything he might regret. There’s no use mourning Slaine’s changes, especially since he helped perpetuate them.

“Get some rest, Harklight. You look like you need it.”

_So do you,_ Harklight should say, but he doesn’t have that right anymore.

He lost that right when he suggested Slaine should kill Count Saazbaum.

Harklight takes his leave before he can regret his decisions even more. There’s no turning back, not after he’s stained his hands with blood.

All there’s left for him to do is keep following Slaine (it’s the least he owes him now). Together, they will conquer Vers. And if their world falls around them, Harklight will do his best to shield Slaine from the debris.

In his newfound free time, Harklight could be doing a plethora of things to get ahead. Check the status of the return ship, start the research for Slaine. None of it appeals to him this time. All are reminders of the Slaine he left behind, the one who used to smile so brightly and say such thoughtful things. That Slaine died with the count.

In the end, his path brings him to the audience chamber. Though he and Slaine were supposed to visit Princess Lemrina later, he steps in alone and activates it.

Some familiar company sounds far too welcome.

Lemrina rests in her familiar corner of the room, staring out into space’s void absentmindedly. She doesn’t even spare a glance over her shoulder as the door creaks shut. Harklight slinks to her side and bows regardless. “Princess Lemrina.”

“Harklight, Sir Slaine,” she replies in turn, her voice robotic. “What a pleasure to see you.”

“Sir Slaine isn’t here, Princess.” That finally catches her attention.

She whirls around in her chair with wide eyes as she gasps, “Just you, Harklight?” Harklight cringes at the sound.

When had they become so synonymous with each other that just one was a shock? And even more concerning, why couldn’t they have stayed that way?

“Just me,” is all he replies, and it’s enough to bring a frown to Lemrina’s lips.

“Is everything okay, Harklight? I heard about Count Saazbaum… I wasn’t able to watch the funeral, though. Was it as interesting as the soldiers seemed to think?”

_She doesn’t know about Slaine._ Should Harklight say anything?

“I didn’t watch it either.”

Oddly, concern flashes across Lemrina’s usually cruel gaze. “Who was Count Saazbaum to you, Harklight?”

“I… I don’t know. He hand-selected me from the training academy to serve him. From the start, I worked alongside him. A lot of the other soldiers didn’t like it, but he never let their opinions affect his decisions. He trusted me more than most… enough to let me serve his most precious subordinate. A wonderful superior, I suppose…”

Harklight trails off as his vision blurs. He wipes his eyes, but his sight doesn’t clear.

“Pardon me, Princess. It’s most unlike me to get emotional.”

A warm weight surrounds one of Harklight’s shaking hands. Even without looking, he’d recognize the princess’s delicate touch, even if it is only an illusion from the projection. “It’s fine, Harklight. You haven’t had much time to mourn, have you?”

Harklight shakes his head, but there’s no way he can explain. He’s had the time to mourn. He could have any number of times, but he cannot. It is his fault Count Saazbaum is dead, thanks to his careful calculations and thought-out plot.

Did Count Saazbaum ever feel guilty for assassinating Princess Asseylum?                                                           

“What about you?” he croaks, shutting his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the tears. “Have you had the chance to grieve?”

“I made my peace with his death the moment he left the Moon Base.” She squeezes his hand in a repeating message. _It will be okay_ , she spells in Morse Code, he realizes as the pattern continues.

He can hardly believe she remembered his short lesson on it (stemming from a conversation on childhood adventures, and how Harklight and Farrow used to tap messages to each other in class under the teacher’s nose). In other times, Harklight would have been touched she had memorized his words. Now, it’s hardly soothing.

“I can’t explain it,” she continues, her voice far off, “but I knew that he wouldn’t return to the Moon Base. When the news came… I cried, but I knew it was time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Once, he told me that everything has its purpose. We live and we die, playing our parts exactly as planned. Did he not play his? He set up our world. He built a place where the young could forge their future instead of repeating the cycle of suffering over and over again by pitting all of humanity against itself. He gave this world to us, you and I and Slaine… Now it’s our turn to take the stage and play our roles… don’t you think, Harklight?”

All her roles and playing parts are far beyond the grasp of an ordinary sixteen year old, but Lemrina has always been anything but ordinary. When she finally opens her eyes to the world outside herself, she understands, perhaps more clearly than any of them.

Count Saazbaum taught her well.

“You two could change the world, Princess. You could make this world something beautiful, something worth living in.” He can already imagine their world, Slaine and Lemrina leading people to their peace. A world where the downtrodden would thrive and none would be left to ashes, a world where he would finally rest easy knowing his dreams had been fulfilled.

But unlike Slaine and Lemrina, he can’t shape it. He is a mere servant with duties to bear and head to bow.

He’s left following them with open heart until the end of time, always one step behind.

Once, the thought might have depressed him, but now, he doesn’t mind. There is no one he’d rather follow than Slaine and Lemrina. They are like him, suppressed by the vicious society around them. They understand, better than anyone he’s ever met.

They are the leaders, and he’s just their-

“We’ll need your help too, Harklight. You know Vers better than us.”

“I couldn’t possibly-”

Lemrina squeezes his hand hard, and he blinks open his eyes, tears still seeping out the corners. Her gaze is warm (even if her smile is not) as she says, “Slaine and I… we could never do it on our own. We need you, Harklight.”

Harklight fights back the retorts lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he cannot stop the bitter smile from forming on his lips. “Did you know Count Saazbaum named Slaine his son?”

“What?” Lemrina frowns in confusion but he’s sure his words will register soon enough.

“Slaine isn’t just a knight anymore. When Count Saazbaum died, he inherited his father’s title.”

“I see.” Her gaze returns to the glass panes, her expression unreadable. Her hands leave his, and a familiar chill returns to them. “Count Slaine Saazbaum Troyard, huh. What a nice name.”

“Indeed.”

One gentle hand presses against the glass, but he cannot imagine what she reaches for out there. Anything beyond her dismal life, perhaps, or the chance for something more. “He really could do anything now. Maybe now, his dreams of marrying the princess will come true.”

“You’re the princess now,” he finally sighs. “No matter if you wear your sister’s face, the one announcing marriage is you.”

A delighted smile lights up Lemrina’s face, but the reflection in the glass betrays her innate bitterness. “If he married me… that would be a most marvelous dream. But Harklight, don’t you…”

“Princess, I wish for nothing more than yours and Slaine’s happiness. You deserve the right to pursue your love.” He grits his teeth as he speaks. His heart screams in denial, begs him to retract his words and be selfish for once in his life.

No, not once in his life.

He already helped kill Count Saazbaum in selfishness.

Princess Lemrina is pure of heart underneath the walls of wounded bitterness. If anyone deserves a chance to love Slaine and receive his love in turn, it’s her. Even if it means ignoring his heart, even if it means sacrificing his personal happiness, he will step aside and let her love.

After all, wasn’t this was he always wanted? Squeeze Lemrina in his too full heart? See Slaine happy?

“Harklight…” To his shock, she takes him into her arms and holds tight. After a moment’s thought, he finally hugs back. She collapses in his arms, delicate as the faked strength disappears. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispers as he lets the world fade to darkness all around him. The audience chamber returns, a void that swallows him whole.

Though he can’t explain why, tears streak down his cheeks. He tries to wipe them away with his sleeve, but a few still escape, staining the podium beneath him. _Fool,_ he chastises himself.

Slaine has always been beyond his reach.

When his cheeks finally stay dry, he returns to his temporary quarters and begins his work. It is all he can do for Slaine now. _Find information on the Deucalion’s departure and on the incoming supply shuttles._

He works on the cryptanalysis for long hours until he finally falls asleep at the desk, the screen still processing data. Slaine has not returned when he falls asleep, but when he awakes, the count’s jacket drapes over his shoulders like a blanket.

Slaine sleeps in his bed, tossing and turning over and over again. Though he shouldn’t, Harklight gets up and settles on the edge of Slaine’s bed. Once, he might have laid down right beside without a second thought and held tight.

Now, he can hardly bear to run a hand through his soft hair before he forces himself to get up. He has no right to act so familiarly with Slaine anymore. But even so, he still pulls up the covers around Slaine (he always kicks them to one side or the other) and sets Slaine’s jacket neatly folded at his bedside.

Then he returns to work, as he must. The data’s finished processing, leaving plenty of results to analyze. It keeps him busy until Slaine finally awakes, looking far more rested than he has since Count Saazbaum’s death.

“Good morning, Milord,” he says as he files through the information. As the necessary data stands out to him, he scratches it down on a paper beside him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Excellently.” Harklight spares a glance at Slaine, who steps out of his bed with a yawn. “We should meet with Princess Lemrina today, considering we didn’t have the time to do so yesterday.”

“That would be wise.” Harklight says nothing of his own visit to her; Slaine doesn’t need to know. “I’m almost done the cryptanalysis.”

Twenty more lines, and he’ll be finished.

“Good.” Slaine changes into his count’s uniform as Harklight finishes up. Just as he writes the last bit of data on the paper, Slaine stops by his side and snatches the paper from the table. “Perfect.”

Harklight doesn’t find out what Slaine means until after the visit to Lemrina.

As they traverse the Moon Base, Slaine’s lips curl up in a smirk. Harklight can’t keep the surprise off his face; as a knight, Slaine had never shown such confidence. “It is a poor knight indeed who slays one who defies him. The key is to show yourself to be so superior that they will not defy you in the first place.”

Harklight smiles wryly; does Slaine think Harklight would turn against him?  “Wise words, Milord.”

“Count Saazbaum spoke them,” Harklight turns in shock, about to ask if he meant the quote in context to Count Saazbaum’s murder, but Slaine answers the question before he can speak, “which is why I must give them a reminder.”

The other counts, those who would consider defying him.

“I will lay siege on the Trident Base alone.” Harklight should protest, beg Slaine to reconsider. Not even the Stygis Squadron was successful in causing much damage to the base, let alone a single Kataphraktos. But at the confidence in Slaine’s voice, Harklight can’t say anything.

At long last, Slaine has finally found his voice.

He helps Slaine prepare for the mission as best he can. As Slaine suits up, he starts up the control systems. For once, there’s no one else in the room to bother him.

“Tharsis, ready for launch.” Slaine’s voice crackles over the comm, and for a moment, he can almost imagine a kinder Slaine speaking.  But as he pulls up the screen, the illusion dissipates. Knight Slaine might have smiled at Harklight as he spoke, but Count Slaine stares straight ahead without any emotion at all.

“You’re cleared, Milord. Good hunting.”

Harklight watches the Tharsis blip across the radar into the depths of space. Though the usual operators stand, he pulls up a chair and sits. This will not be an operation where communication with the soldiers is needed.

Slaine will play the Terran soldiers like pawns, and his whole operation will go to plan. The Trident Base will be destroyed. The Versian soldiers will have no choice but to accept him or keep their mouths shut.

It’s a perfect operation, or as close as they can get to one.

At long last, Slaine finally reopens the communication channel. “Mission complete. The Trident Base is heavily damaged and will be unusable by the UFE for a while.”

Before Harklight can offer praises, the channel closes once again.

A smile crosses Harklight’s lips. They’ve done well.

He accesses the base’s PA system, trying to think of what to say. The announcement is more important that any he’s ever had to make before; whatever he says will be Slaine’s legacy to these soldiers.  “The UFE’s Trident Base has been heavily damaged by the Tharsis. The damages taken will make it unusable by Terran forces for a long while.”

It is not enough; it is not nearly enough. But until Slaine returns, it is all he can say. He leaves the control room behind. Surely, soldiers will clamber over themselves to make sure Slaine enters the Marineros Base safely now. He doesn’t have time to worry about that, anyways.

Harklight has a master to meet.

The minute Slaine exists the Tharsis, Harklight leaps over the railing to be at his side. “Milord, brilliantly done.”

The soldiers and mechanics line the launch dock like a parade route. As Harklight watches, they salute, one after another. He glances back and forth in shock, but their respect does not waver. Even a count salutes, one of the minor ones who Harklight has never met.

Surely some are furious. Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz watch from one of the balconies, their hands resolutely at their sides. But no matter what they feel of the situation, they cannot speak their hatred.

Slaine has earned too much respect to be undermined so easily.

“Harklight, we’re returning to the Moon,” Slaine states, not even sparing a glance at the saluting soldiers around him.

“Yes, Milord.”

They return to the Moon Base the minute they get their things packed. There is no use spending more time there when their necessary princess still lies on the Moon.

At least the return trip is much more peaceful than their trip there.

And for a few days, he can almost pretend that peace will continue. No one approaches Slaine with anything but respect, and though Harklight notices a few disgusted stares, the dissidents don’t speak.

Count Saazbaum’s room has yet to be cleaned out. It’s Slaine’s duty to sort through his late father’s things, but he’s thrown himself into paperwork instead. If it was any other task, Harklight might have volunteered to do it for his master.

How can Harklight possibly decide what mementos Slaine would want of his dead father?

Does he even have a right to pick through Count Saazbaum’s things after planning the murder?

One other reason lingers in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t dare acknowledge it. It is far too selfish, far too _wrong_.

If he has no right to clear Count Saazbaum’s room, there’s no way he has a right to want Slaine to stay in his old room.

As Harklight waits for Slaine to finish visiting with Princess Assseylum one even, one of the information room workers catches him. “Harklight, sir.”

Harklight doesn’t turn around to acknowledge the man. It is probably something trivial; he’s never bothered with anything important. “What is it?”

“We’ve received numerous calls from Count Marylcian that need to a response.”

Harklight whips his head around, irritation welling within him. He should have known Count Marylcian, of all people, wouldn’t let things rest so quietly. “Count Marylcian, you say?”

“Yes, sir.” The man makes a face as he continues. “He has been calling repeatedly, insisting that he be put through to Princess Asseylum.”

“What does Count Slaine say?” There is nothing Harklight can do individually; he doesn’t have the authority. All he’s capable of is passing on a message.

“There is no sign of him, sir.”

“What’s all this commotion?” The familiar voice startles Harklight; Princess Lemrina’s voice shouldn’t be in this part of the Moon Base.

At the confusion settling on the worker’s face, Harklight makes a quick decision. Few know of Princess Lemrina’s existence, and they must keep it that way, at least until the war’s end. “Leave us.”

“Yes, sir.” The man leaves without another question, but Harklight doesn’t relax until he’s fully gone.

When they’re alone, Lemrina’s lips curl up into her cruel grin. “Oh, dear. You can’t have your discussion with me in the room?”

“Unfortunately not, Princess. Knowledge of your existence is limited, even here at the Moon Base.” Though it’s not his right to offer orders, a concerned request slips out before he can stop himself. “I must ask that you avoid public areas.”

Lemrina’s smirk deepens. “Shall I speak to him?”

He gasps at her request. Speak to Count Marylcian without Count Slaine’s permission? He could never. Slaine would be furious, and Lemrina would probably only irritate the situation further.

Before he can voice his protests, Lemrina continues. “It’s Count Marylcian, isn’t it?”

“But, Princess…”

“Is there a problem?” At her forceful tone, he falls silent. No matter how much he shouldn’t even consider her proposal, there’s nothing he can do. She’s still a Versian Princess. He concedes with a bow of his head, and she smiles back.

“Patch him to the press room.”

With a sigh, Harklight follows Lemrina to the room. He tries not to think of the consequences yet; that will come soon enough. For now, all he must do is try to control the damage done.

The room’s completely dark when Harklight enters. He fumbles against the wall for the light switch, flipping them on one by one until the room’s lit up with a warm golden glow. Lemrina wheels in the minute he holds open the door for her with an expression not unlike Slaine nowadays.

They have always been alike, Slaine and Lemrina, but it’s moments like these that remind him just how similar they are. “Thank you, Harklight,” she mutters as she passes him.

He merely nods in turn. He hardly deserves thanks for simple courtesy. With the ease of experience on her side, she wheels up to the center of the stage (though it’s her first time to speak individually with a Count, she’s spoken enough times from the stage to the common people). “Okay, Harklight, you can turn on the monitors now.”

Mortified, Harklight shakes his head as he steps away from the link controls. “But Princess, you haven’t-”

“Put on my disguise? I know.” As she laughs, a wry smile crosses her lips. “Perhaps I wanted to speak to him as myself.”

Harklight must make a face because she adds quickly after, “Oh, don’t look like that, Harklight. I’m going to disguise myself.” Light engulfs her for a brief moment, and when it dims, the other princess rolls forward. “See?”

Even though he’s seen her disguised multiple times, it’s still incredibly unsettling to watch. Lemrina’s range of emotions do not fit such a soft face. “Very well. Please be careful, though. Count Marylcian is… he has a reputation for being rather blunt.”

“You had the pleasure of meeting him on the Marineros Base, right?” Harklight nods, though he can’t stop from grimacing at the memory. It was hardly a pleasant meeting. “Don’t worry. He won’t be nearly as rude to Princess Asseylum as he surely was to Slaine.”

“Alright, Princess.” He lets out a sigh as he opens the proper communication channels. “Let’s hope he is reasonable.”

The moment Harklight finally returns to Lemrina’s side, the call comes up on a screen in front of them. Lemrina accepts it without hesitation.

Count Marylcian’s sneering face appears on the screen, and Harklight tenses. Already, he can imagine its horrible end. But to his amazement, Count Marylcian bows.  “Highness, it a pleasure to be able to speak with you.” As he straightens up, his eyes narrow. “And I see Harklight is with you.”

“Sir.” Though he grits his teeth, Harklight offers a curt bow in in turn. Rudeness will hardly be tolerated here.

The count ignores his respect, continuing along as if Harklight hadn’t spoken at all. “Her highness is most gracious. Please forgive this sudden disturbance.”

“It is a pleasure to see you, Count Marylcian.” For once, Lemrina handles herself with grace and tact. “Now, what did you wish to discuss with me? It must be urgent indeed for you to contact me without first obtaining Count Troyard’s permission.”

Count Marylcian’s smirk widens, and Harklight nearly flinches at the sight. One exchange, and Lemrina’s already misspoken. Her face falls too; clearly, she’s noticed it as well. “Ah. One cannot speak to you in private? I must say, Count Troyard is being rather overprotective to keep you under guard thus.”

From there, the conversation deteriorates. Harklight succumbs to glaring the more Count Marylcian insults Slaine. He spares a glance at Lemrina, but the same does not hold true for her. As the count offers his belittling metaphors, Lemrina grows ever more engrossed.

It’s the last, a comparison to a bird in a cage, that catches her attention most. Though she does not comment on it directly, her whole attitude changes. “If you are so concerned, Count Marylcian, perhaps you should visit the Moon Base yourself.”

Harklight bites his cheek to prevent his protests from escaping. If Slaine was any less kind, Harklight would be murdered one-hundred times over for letting the situation get so out of hand.

“I would be most honored, Princess. Count Barouhcruz and I will be there as soon as we can.”

The screen blinks out, but Harklight doesn’t relax a bit. What will Slaine think? Without thinking, Lemrina puts herself in a situation where she could completely dismantle the entire façade Count Saazbaum built for them. And to make matters worse, it wouldn’t just be her who would suffer. If she caused the truth to slip out, he and Slaine would take the fall with her.

“Harklight, would you patch me through to the docks?”

With a sigh, Harklight makes the necessary connections. The damage has already been done. If they don’t authorize the Landing Castle’s docking, if will only make the situation worse.

The communication is short and simple. With Lemrina playing Princess Asseylum, a few words are all that are needed for authorization. If anything, the workers are too flattered she personally contacted them to say no.

When the screen vanishes again, Lemrina turns to Harklight with a prideful smile. “I did a good job, right Harklight?”

Harklight tries not to dash her hopes, but he can’t keep silent about his concerns. “Please keep playing it well, Princess. I doubt Slaine will be too pleased with what you’ve done.”

Lemrina laughs away his words. “Who cares what he thinks? I’m not some bird in a cage, or whatever Count Marylcian called it.”

She’s wrong, Harklight knows. She has been the caged bird for so long, she’s forgotten she resides in a cage. Even now, when she should be able to live freely since Count Saazbaum’s dead, she’s kept locked away by her role as the other princess.

Harklight’s done his role too in keeping her caged, but now isn’t the time to be blaming himself. Slaine needs to learn of Lemrina’s actions before Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz arrive.

“Princess, my apologies, but I must return to Milord.” He bows and turns to leave, but Lemrina catches his sleeve before he can get anywhere.

“I’ll come with you, Harklight. It wouldn’t be right of me to put all the blame on you after you so kindly helped me speak with Count Marylcian.”

Though they leave together, Harklight takes care to stay a bit ahead of the princess. It will be better to break the new gently to Slaine first before Lemrina gets there. That way, if Slaine’s furious…

But when Harklight finally reaches Slaine, he’s already exited Princess Asseylum’s chambers. He watches space with a perplexed gaze. Harklight follows it, frowning at the sight of two Landing Castles approaching.

He’s returned too late.

“What is the meaning of this?” Slaine cries, his eyes wide with horror. “Who gave those Landing Castles authorization to dock?!”

Harklight can’t help but glance back, back where Lemrina surely awaits. “Milord, it was-”

“I did.” Lemrina cuts him of before he can finish. Little Eddelrittuo must have caught up with Lemrina when Harklight wasn’t paying attention; she stands behind the princess with her usual demure frown.

Harklight listens to Lemrina and Slaine’s conversation without interjection. What can he say? As a loyal servant, he should defend Slaine. But Lemrina deserves his loyalty as well, especially since he aided her in the calls despite knowing Slaine would never approve.

It’s a horrible position to be in.

Eddelrittuo runs after Lemrina the moment the princess storms off, leaving Slaine and Harklight alone. Slaine’s brows furrow with worry as he asks, “Is everything alright with Princess Lemrina?”

“She is simply concerned about her status here on the Moon Base, that’s all,” he tries to reassure. The words sound flimsy even to him. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. We have a couple of counts to meet with.”

“Do you know who she authorized to dock?” Slaine questions as they begin to make their way to the docks.

Harklight closes his eyes as he replies; he doesn’t wish to see Slaine’s dismay. “Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz.”

Slaine stops abruptly, leaving Harklight to stumble a few steps ahead before he realizes Slaine doesn’t walk beside him. “Why? Why would she do that?”

How does he respond to that? If Lemrina wouldn’t answer… He can’t speak for her. It isn’t his place, nor is it his duty to. If she wishes Slaine to know of Count Marylcian’s words, it is hers to tell.

“Count Marylcian… he’s a cunning man beneath his bluntness,” Harklight ends up replying. “Please be careful, Milord.”

Slaine just sighs. “When did you become such a wise servant, Harklight?”

“What do you mean?” Wise servant? Harklight’s far from wise, just worried.

“You’ve become distant, offering me valuable advice and taking care not to step over position lines. Isn’t that the stereotype? The young heir to the throne and his older, wise servant? You don’t call me Slaine anymore either.”

The last part catches Harklight off-guard. “I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate. We’re two ranks apart now.”

“Harklight, I don’t mind.” Slaine smiles, and for a moment, it’s as if Knight Slaine’s returned once more. “If I minded, I would tell you. We’re close enough to be honest with each other, correct?”

Harklight can’t help but smile back. “I would hope.”

The moment of peace shatters all too soon as a serious expression returns to Slaine’s face. “Well, we mustn’t keep Count Marylcian and Count Barouhcruz waiting.”

Harklight nods in response. They set off for the docks in silence, but for the first time in days, Harklight doesn’t worry so much on how to act around Count Slaine.

Count Slaine is still Slaine underneath all his newly-donned bravado.

When they arrive at the docks, Lemrina and Eddelrittuo wait alone. Lemrina nods at them as she stands in the limited gravity, but they remain in a tense silence.

The counts will be there soon enough.

The Herschel and the Octantis enter simultaneous, and their pilots land with equal finesse. Their long-time comradery shows, beyond even Harklight’s synchronicity with Knight Slaine. And when they finally get out, Count Marylcian speaks for the both of them with the ease of someone who’s been relegated the honor a thousand times before.

What Harklight wouldn’t give to be that close to Slaine.

The peace only lasts for a short time. The minute Count Marylcian brings up the Royal Guard, Harklight cringes. He had forgotten about the late Count Saazbaum’s added title. He and Slaine had been taking care of the duties involved anyways, but surely it wouldn’t look good for such a young, Terran-born Count to hold such an esteemed position over a renowned, Vers-born one.

Though he tries not to, he can’t stop himself from glaring daggers at the rude count. Slaine has done his job well, despite his lowly societal status. He deserves none of the brutality Count Marylcian spits out. But somehow, it isn’t until Count Marylcian leaps down from his high platform that civility disintegrates completely.

The count points a finger at Slaine, his face twisted with upmost disgust. “Count Troyard, I hereby challenge you to a duel!”

Harklight cannot contain a shocked gasp. A duel? To be arrogant enough to propose putting one’s life on the line over a ridiculous position astounds him, especially in such grave times. They shouldn’t be squabbling now, not when the world’s at war around them.

But if there’s one thing Count Marylcian isn’t known for, it’s his thoughtfulness.

Slaine glares at Count Marylcian, but he responds with the only choice he can. “I accept your challenge. Will tomorrow at midday suffice?”

“Very well, Troyard. Count Barouhcruz will call the match.”

“Would you like a place to stay, Count Marylcian, Count Barouhcruz?” Harklight asks, just to be polite. The counts will surely say no, but perhaps the formality might make Count Barouhcruz a little more respectful to them as they watch.

“Absolutely not!” Count Marylcians retorts, already heading to his Kataphraktos. “I’d rather stay in my Landing Castle than take the hospitality of Terran filth.”

Harklight doesn’t bother to correct him. Count Marylcian will be dead soon enough, anyways.

Slaine won’t lose; he can’t. Somehow, someway, he’ll make it through this trial, and he’ll be able to pursue his dreams once more.

Maybe after this, Harklight will finally learn what Slaine’s dreams are.

The moment Slaine and Harklight get to their quarters, Slaine asks, “What do you know of the Herschel?”

Harklight tries to recall his lessons on the various Versian Kataphraktoi, but only a few details come to mind. “If I remember correctly, it’s noted for its many mobile guns. They serve as its prime weapons. Beyond that, it a single gun to use should the mobile ones be destroyed. Defensively, I don’t believe it is any different from average Versian Kataphraktos.”

“Multiple mobile guns…” Slaine frowns as he collapses onto his bed. “Can they fire all at once?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re more like independent units firing at a target from what I recall.”

“Then I suppose I can’t count on my trajectory to help me out of this. Since they’re mobile, they’ll be able to fire on me from all directions…” Recognition lights up in his eyes, and a smirk starts to form on Slaine’s lips. “Harklight, are there any areas around the Moon Base that are dead ends?”

Harklight frowns. “I believe there are some old material loading tunnels from building the Moon Base that were sealed off from the rest of the base.  They would still be accessible if you were out in space. Why?”

“Wonderful. Could you please find a map of them for me?”

“Of course, Slaine, but why do you need it?”

“I have an idea of how to best Count Marylcian tomorrow.” Slaine stands up, stifling a yawn. “I suppose I should go speak with Princess Lemrina and Eddelrittuo about this. Both are probably worrying too much.”

Harklight’s frown deepens, but there is nothing he can say to change Slaine’s mind. “Don’t talk too long. It’s getting late.”

“And you worry too much too, Harklight,” Slaine replies with a slight smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine.”

As the door clicks shut behind Slaine, Harklight boots up the computer in the room and digs up the necessary maps. They’re easy enough to find, and even easier to read. But too soon, he leaves the screen on as a horrible, horrible thought strikes him.

He rushes to the Tharsis, finding its holding area completely empty. A sigh of relief escapes him; this isn’t the kind of thing he’d want company while doing. Though the light’s dim, Harklight starts his thorough examination of the Tharsis. His eyes will adjust soon enough.

Any screw he sees loose, he uses a nearby screwdriver to tighten.  He checks for cracks or dents too, but the Tharsis is in pristine condition. Though the searching’s long, he doesn’t take a moment to breath until when he finally reaches the top of the Tharsis.

Though Count Marylcian may not have snuck back into the Moon Base to tamper with the Tharsis, Harklight couldn’t have been too careful. Slaine’s life depends on a functional Kataphraktos.

Nothing is wrong. Slaine will fine. Slaine will win.

Harklight shouldn’t have ever doubted him.

For a while, Harklight stares out through the room’s large window, watching the stars. They’re beautiful tonight, as they always are. A whole universe waits out there. Somewhere, someone else will look at the stars and see beauty, hope, a future. Slaine and Count Saazbaum were the same way; they could stare for ages at the stars without losing focus.

But in that moment, Harklight doesn’t understand the appeal. There is nothing within the lights. They are too far away to grasp, too distant to ever dream of reaching them.

No, there is no future out there for him.

His future lies in the dim light from the Tharsis and in the pilot who controls it.

With one last glance at the universe beyond, Harklight pushes off the Tharsis and returns to his quarters. Slaine has already returned, scrawling down notes as he examines the construction maps. “You’ve been gone a while, Harklight. Where did you go?”

“I thought I ought to check on the Tharsis before your duel tomorrow. Everything seems to be intact.” Harklight slips off his jacket as he settles onto his bed. “Don’t stay up too late, Slaine.”

“I won’t,” Slaine promises.

But when Harklight wakes up the next morning, Slaine is slumped over the keyboard, fast asleep. Fondly, Harklight watches Slaine doze on.  Slaine always appears so innocent in sleep, even though his hands have long since been stained with blood.

But as nice a sight it is, Harklight can’t leave Slaine there. There is much that needs to be done prior to the midday duel.

“Slaine. Slaine, wake up.” He shakes Slaine’s shoulder lightly, but the count doesn’t awaken. “Slaine, wake up. It’s 7 o’clock.”

At last, Slaine’s eyes blink open, bleary with sleep. “Huh? Harklight?” He stares up with a rather adorable confused look, but it slips away too soon. The minute Slaine’s eyes lock on the screen, he jolts straight up in his chair. “I’m supposed to conference with a few of the other counts in thirty minutes!”

Miraculously, they manage to get to the press room on time. It is a rather short meeting, but Slaine performs his part spectacularly.

He always has.

As the screens disappear, Harklight smiles. There’s no better master he could have served than Slaine.

But today, that all may change. Harklight tries not to think of it as Slaine explains his plan to him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts return to the inescapable possibility of failure. If Count Marylcian wins, what will happen to him? What will happen with _Lemrina_?

He pushes all thoughts away before he gets too lost in worry. If there is one person Harklight would bet his life on, it was Slaine. Someday, somehow, Harklight will be able to achieve his dreams by his master’s side.

He knows it.

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

Slaine will win today, Harklight prays over and over again. Slaine will win and continue pursuing whatever dreams he fights for now.

“I always liked blue roses,” Slaine mentions as they head towards the launch deck to prepare for the duel. Harklight frowns, perplexed, but Slaine doesn’t seem to notice. “They were so beautiful on the surface, yet they held such contradictory meanings. Miracle, impossible. That’s what life is, huh? How long should we keep waiting for miracles before we finally accept the impossible.”

As Slaine’s gaze turns towards the stars, the meaning dawns on Harklight. It isn’t the duel Slaine’s referring to at all.

It’s Princess Asseylum.

“If there are miracles,” Harklight finally replies, pity weighing heavy on his heart, “then time has long passed them by.”

“Do you think I can win?” Slaine continues without acknowledge Harklight’s words, his gaze tinged with a hint of fear as he stops to peer out the glass. “Count Marylcian is noted for his skill in battle.”

“If you win, it will be by your own strength and brilliance, not by a miracle.”

Slaine chuckles at Harklight’s words, a sharp contrast to the grave look in his eyes. “You’re awfully confident in me, Harklight.”

“Of course.” As Harklight gives a shallow bow, he allows himself to smile. There is no one he trusts more than Slaine, no one whose decisions he’d accept without question but Slaine. “I trust in you wholeheartedly.”

“You trust in the wrong man,” Slaine doesn’t leave time for Harklight to refute his claim, starting to walk at his usual brisk pace, “but I swear I won’t disprove that trust today.”

Neither speaks after that; there’s nothing left to say. Soon enough, Slaine will be victorious or dead.

But when Slaine and Count Marylcian finally start up their Kataphraktoi to begin their duel, Harklight finally finds his potential last words to Slaine. “Good hunting, Milord.”

Slaine doesn’t reply, cutting their connection instead. And without so much as a simple wave for goodbye, he launches into the vast battlefield of space.

Count Barouhcruz calls the match, and Harklight reacts accordingly, but too soon, Slaine and Count Marylcian disappear from their sights. They’re left alone, watching the fight endure on screen. And as the fight continues, Harklight worries ever more.

Did he pray enough? Can Slaine really win against Count Marylcian?

Without realizing it, he cries out Slaine’s name. A few moments later, Lemrina does the same.

It’s hopeless. His words to Slaine were right; miracles have long since passed them by.

But with one swift action, Slaine does as he promised. The fight of the battle turns around the moment Slaine dives into one of the material loading tunnels. The mobile guns are rendered useless, and Count Marylcian retreats in defense.

But in that moment, it’s too late. Slaine ends the fight with a clean cut to the cockpit, and Count Marylcian disappears into the void. Count Barouhcruz tenses, but he admits defeat and agrees to the promised terms.

Harklight can’t help but smile at the turn of events. Slaine is alive; Slaine has won. At least for a while, any opposition against Slaine will be kept quiet; he’s proved his merit a hundred times over.

Slaine returns with the damaged Herschel in tow, dragging both the Kataphraktoi into the landing dock. The moment the cockpit opens, Harklight is there at Slaine’s side, hand outstretched.

Slaine takes it, giving Harklight a weary smile. “Thank you, Harklight.” Harklight relaxes; at last things will quiet down for a while.

But the minute Count Barouhcruz leaves, Slaine turns to Harklight and Lemrina with an oddly serious expression. “We cannot remain passive any longer.”

“Slaine?” Lemrina questions, gliding forward like a true princess in her sister’s guise.  “What are you planning?”

“I’ve made my decision.” He stands straighter, and for a moment, Harklight can almost imagine a different count in his place. He shakes his head; Slaine is not Count Saazbaum and never will be. “I will take Earth’s resources and build a kingdom in this Earthspace where the downtrodden will suffer no more.”

“But what about your princess?” Harklight gasps, unable to fathom Slaine’s words. Slaine spoke so fondly of protecting Princess Asseylum’s dreams… and even if he commended Harklight and Lemrina’s visions, didn’t have his own he’d rather follow?

“I can’t keep waiting for her to wake up, and even if I did, this isn’t what she wants at all. She wants peace between Earth and Vers, something that’s no longer possible. All peace would do is keep things the way they are. The both of you, you know our current world’s flaws. We must build a better world for the next generation if things are to change.” Slaine’s lips quirk into a wry grin, but his eyes shine with a light Harklight hasn’t seen in a long time. “And if the princess awakes, then I will give her the world we build.”

“And how will you do it, Slaine?” Lemrina drawls, lifting her head to stare Slaine in the eye. “If I refuse to go along with your plan, what will you do? You won’t have your precious princess to help you.”

“I know. But didn’t you wish for a kinder world, one where you’d finally be free?”

“I did.” Lemrina’s eyes flutter shut as she leans up and kisses Slaine on the cheek. Harklight grits his teeth (Why is he jealous? He has no right to Slaine, no more than she does.) but manages to keep a blank face. “I’d marry you, if you wanted it. I’d be my sister’s replacement.”

Slaine’s gazes darts to the side, his eyes catching Harklight’s for a brief moment before they turn away. Slaine doesn’t love Lemrina, not like she wants him to love her. But no matter how he feels at heart, Slaines still sinks into a deep bow, hand resting on his heart. “I would be most honored.”

“Then you can call my heart yours.” This time, when Slaine finally rises, it’s Slaine who bends down to kiss Lemrina. Harklight nearly glides away; he can’t watch this anymore. But before he can leave, Slaine turns his beautiful, beautiful eyes on him and laughs a little nervously.

“I suppose this is rather awkward for you, Harklight.”

“It’s fine,” Harklight replies hastily. “Don’t stop on account of me.”

“We can continue some other time.” But despite her best efforts, Harklight doesn’t miss the way Lemrina slips her hand into Slaine’s. Slaine plays his part and holds it like a proper gentleman (even as Harklight’s heart begins to crack). “Will you assist me, Harklight?”

Harklight should say no. He shouldn’t stay around to be the left-out observer to Slaine and Lemrina’s romance. But in the back of his mind, his one vow repeats over and over again.

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

“It would be my honor, Slaine.” And as he bows, Harklight’s heart shatters. All this time, all this time he’s thought he would be fine with letting Lemrina fall in love with Slaine. But at heart, he’s nothing more than a fool, left clinging to dreams too tight to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two days late even with constant working on it! I tried to get it up Tuesday, I tried yesterday, but two hours a day to get to the part of the story I wanted to apparently wasn't enough time. Oh well. Gotta love having no free time.
> 
> At last, we're on our penultimate chapter! Slaine's slipped out of Harklight's reach, their dreams finally seem reachable... what could possibly go wrong? (Everything because Slaine and Harklight's story is a tragedy, but we'll deal with that next week.)
> 
> This chapter was supposed to end with Harklight becoming a knight. Apparently, Harklight does not become a knight until later in the series than I thought, so I ended up cutting the chapter off. 6 months since I've fully rewatched Aldnoah.Zero and I'm already forgetting things.


	7. Act Seven: Three, Two, One

Somehow, Harklight manages to set aside his emotions, returning to his duties like a loyal servant should do. But for as normal as he tries to seem, excessive oversight betrays him. Without prompting, he gathers intel on the counts’ allegiances for Slaine. Without prompting, he sets up the announcement for Slaine and Lemrina.

But when the time comes to watch Lemrina to announce Slaine’s dreams (no, their dreams) to the Versian citizens, Harklight can only bring himself to watch from the shadows. Slaine doesn’t smile as his engagement is announced, not even when Princess Lemrina delegates all the power to him.

If anything, Slaine grows ever graver. His conversations with Harklight turn darker by the day, his plots less and less moral. But even so, Harklight agrees to every single one without question.

If there is one thing he can still give to Slaine, it is his undying loyalty.

Even as the bags form under Slaine’s eyes, even as Slaine confesses his lies to Harklight over and over again.

Even as Slaine’s princess awakens, and Slaine falls in love again.

Harklight takes on the duties he can, commanding war as best he can. It’s strange, the people looking to him for direction. He, a mere soldier (a mere servant), in charge of ordering soldiers and counts alike. Slaine should be doing this, but with the princess’s duties on top of his own as count, he has no time to be head of the royal guard (or so Harklight tells the others).

Though Harklight should consider it an honor to perform such duties, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He hasn’t the power or authority to end this war; Slaine does. Slaine has the tools to shape everything, but while Harklight issues orders from the command center, he hides away more and more with his princess.

Harklight’s prideful smiles become more and more forced as he continues directing the war. How can a mere soldier lead a war without any guidance?

In his spare time, he visits Lemrina more frequently. She slumps a little further in her chair, her thoughtful eyes dulled.

“Why doesn’t Slaine visit me anymore?” she asks Harklight repeatedly. “Where is he?”

Harklight could lie and say he’s busy with war. Harklight should lie; it’s what Slaine’s asked of him. But he does not.

“He’s worrying about Princess Asseylum.”

“Oh.” Lemrina’s gaze drops, the little light remaining in her eyes dimming. “Is she still clinging to life?”

“Yes.”

“And how’s Eddelrittuo doing? She must be terribly worried now that she has nothing to distract her.” Harklight doesn’t miss the question in her voice. _Why isn’t she performing her duty to me instead of worrying about Asseylum all the time?_

“She’s worried, but having the time off to cope with the sudden turn of events has been most beneficial to her.”

“I see… Slaine’s been spending a lot of time in his Landing Castle lately. I hope he’s not hiding there so he can grieve alone.”

Harklight cannot respond without lying or ruining Slaine’s fabrications.

“Harklight? Don’t you agree with me?”

“Yes, Princess.”

And for the first time, Lemrina turns around with a glare and orders, “Leave me alone, Harklight.”

Harklight cannot leave her presence fast enough.

But he doesn’t stop thinking about her, even after he’s returned to his analysis of the knights and their loyalty.

Once, when Slaine is busy with war preparations, Harklight slips onto the Landing Castle and visits Asseylum alone. Eddelrittuo’s in there with her princess, as per usual nowadays, but she makes her excuses to leave the moment she notices Slaine isn’t with him.

He takes the chair by Asseylum’s bed (the one Slaine sits in so often) and does nothing for the longest time. How should he act around her? Should he be formal? Should he try and be friendly?

In the end, he takes her hand in his, like Slaine and Eddelrittuo always do.

It’s horribly uncomfortable.

“Ah, Mr. Harklight. It’s a pleasure to see you!” Asseylum beams at him, placing her other hand on top of his. “You have warm hands.”

Harklight frowns at their hands. “Do I?” Hers are cold in his, but he accounts it to the room. Slaine set the temperature slightly lower to make the room ideal for sleep.

“Yes, even warmer than Eddelrittuo’s. Slaine has such cold hands, even colder than mine. I keep telling him to wear gloves again like he used to, but he doesn’t. He’s silly, isn’t he?”

Harklight could tell her Count Cruhteo forced Slaine to wear those gloves so he wouldn’t touch anything with his filthy Terran hands, but he doesn’t. If Slaine hasn’t told her, Harklight has no right to explain.

“I wouldn’t know, Princess.”

Her smiles softens; in the gentle light, she is almost ethereal. “He speaks of you quite a bit, Harklight, when you aren’t with him. You’re quite the remarkable servant.”

“You honor me.” He bows his head without thinking. Despite his best efforts, he can’t stop his frown from deepening too. “I only perform my duties to him.”

“If you did just that, then why did you take time out of your busy schedule to visit me?”

Shocked, he lifts his head up and scrutinizes her. For as innocent as Slaine paints her, she’s rather observant at times. “My master’s too busy to come himself, so I thought you might like some company.”

“I have Eddelrittuo.”

“Sometimes a little unexpected company is nice.” Lemrina comes to mind, always longing to be beyond her confinement so she could see more than the few usual faces. “Are you doing well?”

If Asseylum notices his sudden subject change, she does not comment on it. “I’ve been feeling better lately. I still can’t remember much, but Slaine says I shouldn’t push myself too hard to remember. I’m sure they’ll all come back with time.”

With time… the fact Slaine doesn’t help Asseylum regain her memories shocks him.

Does Slaine fear what she’ll remember?

Or worse… Harklight doesn’t want to think of it. Princess Asseylum is nothing if not delicate. There is no way she could ever endanger their plans if she remembered.

She would inquire, perhaps, maybe offer a word of contrary. But if she really cared for Slaine, if her silky words were genuinely true, could she really oppose Slaine?

He tells himself no over and over again (but in his heart, he knows it’s only because he doesn’t want to think of the alternative).

“He’s right. Exhausting yourself will only lengthen the process.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Harklight.” She squeezes his hands, her smile never fading. “Slaine says you were born into the third-class.”

He tenses under her touch. “I was.” He considers making excuses to leave, but he gives her a chance.

If Slaine loves her so dearly, maybe he should try to see why.

“What’s it like? I was never allowed outside much as a child, and certainly not beyond the capital. I hoped I could take a tour after returning from Earth…” Her free hand leaves Harklight’s and presses against her temple.

“Is everything okay, Princess?”

“I’m fine. Please, tell me about your Vers.”

He sighs, but at the pleading insistence in her innocent eyes, he can’t say no. “It was always dusty. I remember they used to tell us to wear masks and stay inside when the dust storms got particularly bad, but we didn’t listen too well. My good friend and I, we’d sit out on the roof of the town hall, even when the air was bad, and we’d talk about everything. We used to dream of saving Vers, make it so the people around us wouldn’t have to work ‘til their hands were worn and bloody just so they could pay the rent and feed their families.”

Asseylum lets out a little gasp, but Harklight can’t stop now. The words keep tumbling out before he notices.

“My parents were ordinary, working late nights in the factory. But even though they were exhausted, they tried to do their best with me. I was their only child, and they wanted the world for me. They… they made sure I had every opportunity to learn so I could take the only way out of the third-class: joining the Orbital Knights. And when I turned 16, I finally left third-class Vers behind in hopes I could create change.”

He laughs, a bitter smile crossing his lips. “All these years, and nothing’s changed like I thought.”

Asseylum’s gaze softens with sympathy, and for a moment, Harklight can see what Slaine loves so much about her. “My heart is with them. No one should have to live like that.”

She has a good heart, pure and kind. Maybe, if Harklight was younger, less experienced, he might have been enamored like Slaine. One kind soul in the midst of hatred, it would be impossible not to love her. She would be his light in the dark (was that who she was to Slaine, even if she remained ignorant of it?). 

But now, Harklight brushes her sweet nothings away. He cannot hope in empty promises and uncertainties anymore.

There is only Slaine, Slaine and his war for a single kingdom, one with Earth’s resources and Vers’s people, one where Harklight’s people will not suffer and Lemrina will fly free.

“Thank you, Princess.” At last, he lets go of her hand. There’s no point in acting friendly anymore. “Well, I must be off.”

“Goodbye, Harklight!” She calls as he gives her a final bow.

He doesn’t return the farewell.

He has no intentions of returning.

As he returns to the Moon Base, he stumbles across Slaine. His master looks worn out, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Harklight hasn’t seen in a while. “Ah, there you are, Harklight! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry. I was busy visiting the princess.” He takes care not to specify which one. He does not wish to explain his meeting with Asseylum, not when even he does not understand why he visited her alone.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve been working hard.” Slaine smiles a little, but it’s another reminder of his weariness. “I have something to show you.”

Harklight follows Slaine through the halls, confused. What could Slaine possibly have to show him? He’s become quite informed with everything happening around the Moon Base, so little could surprise him.

But somehow, Slaine manages the impossible. Harklight steps into the docks to see the Herschel standing good-as-new in front of him. He hadn’t realized it was being repaired, let alone finished. “You fixed the Herschel?”

“It’s yours.”

Harklight’s breath escapes him as he examines it. “You’re giving this to me, Slaine?”

“Customize it however you’d like. I’ve already discussed the matters of your peerage title and activation factor with Princess Lemrina.”

Peerage title.

Activation factor.

Harklight’s almost too stunned to speak.

With the Herschel… he’ll be a knight. He’ll be the first third-class citizen to ever receive such a high honor.

“Slaine…” He cannot possibly thank Slaine enough, even though he already plans some huge speech of gratitude.

But before he can speak, Slaine continues on as if Harklight hadn’t said anything at all. “The arrow has been loosed. There is no turning back now.”

“Yes, Slaine.” Harklight stands up straight again. For the sake of their dreams, for Slaine’s sake, he will continue to fight on.

It is the least he can do now.

Later, they hold the ceremony. It’s a small one, attended only by Lemrina, Slaine and Eddelrittuo. But the moment Slaine pulls out the ceremonial sword, all Harklight can think of the other knighting ceremony he attended.

Slaine was so young then, maybe not innocent but at least less burdened by the world’s demands. Though it’s wrong to hope for such a thing, Harklight cannot help himself from longing for that Slaine to return.

Back then, at least he could guess what Slaine was thinking.

“Harklight Escalus, will you please kneel in front of me?” Harklight kneels, head bowed and hand on his heart. “Do you vow to serve as my unwavering vassal?”

_I’ve already vowed that,_ he could say, but he replies as expected. “I do.”

“Do you vow to dedicate yourself to the betterment of Vers and all its citizens?”

“I do.”

“Do you vow to dedicate your life in servitude of my orders and those of the empire?”

“I do.”

Slaine unsheathes the sword and rests it on each of his shoulders. The cool metal brushes Harklight’s throat, not hard enough to cut skin but enough to send shivers down his spine.

This is it. When he rises, he will no longer be just Harklight anymore.

“Then rise, Sir Harklight Escalus, sworn knight of mine, and good hunting.”

Harklight stays bowed for a little longer. Though he can’t turn back now, he hesitates. Following Slaine and Lemrina, making their new kingdom a reality, is this what he really wants?

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

Can Slaine’s kingdom even make them reality?

He’s no longer sure.

But at last, he stands. There’s no time to second guess himself now. After all, he made his decision long ago.

No matter what hell awaits them, no matter what agony the future holds, Harklight will always follow Slaine.

He kneeled a servant, but he stands up a knight.

As he straightens his posture, the magnitude of the ceremony sets in. After all his efforts, he finally holds the power to change things.

Lemrina and Eddelrittuo applaud politely, but Harklight can only watch Slaine. As their eyes meet, Slaine smiles, but it’s hardly reassuring.

Though Slaine has given him a title and power over the Herschel’s Aldnoah, Harklight no longer has an excuse to stay by Slaine’s side. Soon enough, his own duties will consume him, and it will be as if they were never master and servant at all.

But even after they disperse their separate ways, Harklight can hardly believe the turn of events.

He’s a knight.

He’s a knight, but he doesn’t even get his own servant or uniform.

He continues to wear his soldier’s clothes, despite the number of odd stares he gets for it. Even Count Barouhcruz, in the midst of arranging a meeting between “Princess Asseylum” and Count Mazuurek, makes comment of it. “I heard you were made a knight, but you don’t seem to look the role.”

“With the war going on, they hardly have time to tailor a uniform for me. There are much greater priorities.”

Count Barouhcruz just shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. If you’re going to be in charge of the Herschel, you ought to look the part.”

“What will happen with Count Marylcian’s vacancy?” Harklight ponders, watching rather disinterestedly as the count’s blue-green eyes flash with indignation (pretty, almost like…). “He has no living relatives.”

But to his amazement, the count manages to keep calm. He sighs, pressing one hand against his temple in weariness. “Since Count Troyard won the duel, it is his right to select the new count. To be quite frank, I was rather surprised to hear he only made you knight.”

“What do you mean?” Only a knight? Being a knight, especially one of the third-class origin, is honor enough.

“Haven’t you heard? Since Troyard’s stepped into the public eye, you’ve become quite the topic of conversation. What’s that they call you? Ah, the servant who’s masterminded a new era for Vers.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Troyard’s capable on his own, but you’ve done much of the directing of the war. Trident Base? Issuing orders for the newly captured lands? Troyard may have envisioned those endeavors, but you are the one who made them reality. It is no wonder Versians have started to look to you as a source of inspiration. You’re the people’s man, a third-class citizen who rose to marvelous heights. No one would object to you being made a count, except perhaps the elitist of nobles.”

Count Barouhcruz stares straight ahead, and Harklight can’t help but shiver. Though they are connected only by a screen, it’s as if the count’s sharp gaze pieces right through him. “I must admit, Sir Escalus, I am most curious to see what will become of you.”

“Sir Harklight’s fine, Count Barouhcruz.” His skin crawls every time he hears the title “Sir Escalus.” It’s too unfamiliar, too unfitting for him to bear on a daily basis. If nothing else, Sir Harklight sounds more approachable.

“As you wish, Sir Harklight.” He frowns, unreadable emotion flickering across his countenance for a moment before he continues. “Ready your audience chamber. Count Mazuurek and I will meet with you shortly.”

The screen dissipates, leaving him alone in an empty room. He should get Lemrina and bring her to meet them; she’s much more eager to play her role now. But for a while, Harklight lingers, Count Barouhcruz’s words weighing heavily on his mind.

Only made a knight? The people’s man? Source of inspiration?

Harklight has done nothing to merit such high praise. He’s only performed his duty to Slaine, obeying his every order (and maybe going a little beyond, but that’s what all good servants do). He is not worth such admiration; he only ascended from the depths of the third class, not from the lowest of filth.

Slaine is much more honorable, much worthier of exaltation.

In the end, Harklight tries not to think of Count Barouhcruz’s words and prepares the meeting. Anymore, Lemrina doesn’t protest when she sees it’s only him. But no matter how hard she tries, she cannot hide her disappointment.

At least it doesn’t stop her from playing her part well. She smiles and frowns and scorns as her Princess Asseylum should, and none but he should know the wiser.

But to Harklight’s concern, Count Mazuurek’s eyes narrow as Lemrina speaks of her non-existent time on Earth.

He tries to reassure himself. There’s no way Count Mazuurek can see through the disguise. It’s flawless, something only the Deucalion crew members or the few on the Moon Base might be able to refute…

Horrible, horrible suspicions occur to him, but he pushes them as far out of his mind as he can. Even if Count Mazuurek suspects the Princess Asseylum he met was a fake, he will never be able to contact the real princess. Slaine keeps her locked up too well.

Though Count Marylcian was wrong about many things, his analogies about Princess Asseylum hold too true.

After the meeting and the two counts bid their farewells, Lemrina finally cracks. She asks the same question she’s been asking him for days again, “Why is Slaine not here at a time like this?”

He answers his standard lie, but Lemrina won’t give up. Lemrina is stubborn when she truly wants something; she always has been.

Even so, Harklight doesn’t hesitate with his decision on how to handle her; he keeps lying. The truth will only hurt her more (And if it’s more to protect Slaine’s card house of lies than to keep Lemrina content, he will not admit it).

Ordinarily, this would be the point in their conversation where Lemrina would sigh but accept his lies.

Today is not one of those days.

Instead of turning around and heading to her room, she speeds forward around him. Harklight can only watch as the wheel gets caught and she tumbles out.

She falls Asseylum, but she hits the ground Lemrina.

Harklight rushes to her side the minute she collapses against the ground. He bends down to lift to her up, but his hand stops in its tracks as she speaks, broken-hearted. “How long will it be… Tell me, how long will it be…”

She bursts into inelegant tears, covering her choked sobs with her hands.

For the first time, Harklight starts to have doubts. All this lying on behalf of Slaine, all this pretending, is it the right thing?

Lemrina loves Slaine more than she loves herself. She sacrificed her identity, her peace, even her wishes for the sake of his dreams, and he gives her nothing in turn. Though they’re engaged, he lies to her, ignores her even.

Harklight bites his cheek to keep from voicing the truth. Slaine has wronged Lemrina, surer than Harklight’s certainty in Slaine’s decision, but there is nothing he can do now. The damage has been long since done.

All he can do is treat Lemrina the best he can now and pray the rest works out as planned.

He helps her sit up with a gentle hand. She doesn’t acknowledge him, tears still flooding down her cheeks. “I shall see you to your room, Princess.”  From his pocket, he pulls out handkerchief (monogramed with a name Harklight has not yet forgotten) and wipes her eyes.

For once, she swallows her pride and lets him take care of her. She even leans into his touch, her head resting against his shoulder. For a long while, they stay like that (for once, he’s grateful for the huge network of hallways in the Moon Base), neither daring to ruin their rare moment of comfort. But at last, when her tears have dried, he lifts her back into her chair and pushes her back to her room.

He tries to leave, but she catches him by the coat sleeve. “Harklight, keep Slaine away from Asseylum’s room.”

“No one’s allowed in there right now.” He frowns, but Lemrina just holds on tighter.

“If I get caught, I will take full responsibility. Please, Harklight.”

Slaine would hate him if he ever found out Harklight helped allow Lemrina to find out the truth. But all the same… it’s no longer his duty to the play the loyal servant.

He’s a knight.

“I have a lot to discuss with him about the war, so I’ll have to go and meet with him after dinner. It’ll probably get late, but I’ll try to make sure he gets some rest. He’s been looking tired lately.” He gives her a pointed stare, and she grins wide.

“You’re the best, Harklight.” At last, she releases him, and he leaves her to her business once again.

The minute the door shuts behind him, Harklight slams his fist against the wall. Already, he regrets his decision. Slaine will surely hate him if he learns of Harklight’s role in Lemrina’s discovery; he knows it.

But no matter how he feels, he can’t turn back now. He made his vow to Lemrina (and if there’s one person beyond Slaine whose trust matters to him, it’s her).

That night, he catches Slaine as planned. To his amazement, Slaine lingers not with Princess Asseylum, but in the depths of the Landing Castle’s communication center. He doesn’t even use it, just stares into the hanging orb’s surface as if searching for his reflection.

“Milord…” Harklight starts to say before cutting himself off, “Slaine.”

He isn’t Slaine’s servant anymore.

Slaine doesn’t even turn around. “How did you find me, Harklight? I thought I had done a rather careful job of hiding away.”

Harklight winces, but still, he manages to keep a level tone. “There are only so many places you can ascertain no one would be bold enough to search, excluding a few rare exceptions.”

“And I suppose you’re that rare exception?”

Harklight can’t stop his bark of laughter at Slaine’s question. “Perhaps.”

“How goes the war out there?” Slaine asks, rather monotone. Harklight starts to explain, but it’s like talking to a wall. Slaine doesn’t turn around once, barley acknowledging other than the odd question or word of praise here or there.

It isn’t until Aldnoah enters the conversation that Slaine shows any reaction. He dips his head, a shred of some unidentifiable emotion bleeding into his voice. “Aldnoah… Count Saazbaum lamented our hierarchial society based on Aldnoah activation rights. He even believed it was a mistake to live on Mars in the first place.”

Harklight grimaces; Count Saazbaum had had that conversation with him once too. It had been before Slaine, before Lemrina even, when the count had sat him down and asked him about Aldnoah. Harklight had forgotten about it entirely; it was just another meaningless conversation in the midst of his monotonous life as a soldier.

How could he have understood, all those years ago, how important Count Saazbaum’s views were in shaping their future?

“Because they had the power to do so, humans migrated to Mars and began the war.”

_Humans fight because they are there._ Another lesson from Count Saazbaum resonates in Slaine’s words.

“Princess Asseylum, Princess Lemrina, both are victims of Aldnoah. That holds true for us as well.”

Victims of Aldnoah… Harklight has never thought of his situation like that before. But somehow, Slaine’s words clarify everything. Were their world not built on Aldnoah, would they have suffered so horribly? Would there have been such struggle, such a need to rise above the expectations?

“But our days of being swallowed by that power are at an end. Using the territory we gained in this battle as a beachhead, we will eventually expand our domain across the entire Earth. And then, by combining the power of Aldnoah with bountiful resources, we will build our world.”

At last, Slaine turns around, his eyes shining with an unfamiliar light. “Though I have spent my days visiting Princess Asseylum of the late, you’ve done well in my place. Land gained in Lake Victoria, successful corroboration, we’ve finally changed the tide. But I won’t leave you alone any longer, Harklight. This is our world to shape, and I intend to see this war through. So, will you keep following me?”

Slaine holds out his hand, and for the first time, it’s as if he looks at Harklight not as the servant, but as an equal. Harklight freezes, hand stuck to his side.

It isn’t the question that bothers him.

But somehow, Harklight pushes through his fears and grabs Slaine’s hand. They shake, but Harklight clings on a little longer, grabbing with his other hand as well. As he drops to one knee, Slaine watches him without a word, perplexed.

“Slaine, no matter what happens, no matter how this war ends, I will follow you. Through war, through world-building, even… even through death if that’s what things come to.”

Slaine has always said there’s nothing less trustworthy than a knight’s vow of loyalty. Harklight knows better than anyone. As he vows his heart away again to Slaine, Lemrina visits all that’s left of her sister (the tank still remains, even if the girl does not).

His duty is to Slaine, and it always will be. But unlike his… partner, he cannot avoid the princess. No matter how hard he’s tried to avoid it, some small portion of his heart lies with Lemrina. He cannot stay non-partial when she is wronged.

Duty… once, Harklight had sworn it all to his people.

Now, they’re only third on the list.

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

His old dream doesn’t quite fit anymore.

_Give Slaine his world._

No, that’s not it either. It isn’t just Slaine’s dream they fight for.

_Build a world where Aldnoah’s victims will no longer suffer._

Slaine, Lemrina, the third-class citizens, it is for all of them. And, if Harklight were to be so selfish, for him.

When had he gotten so selfish?

When?

“Harklight…” Slaine finally exhales, his visage contorted with some unreadable emotion. “You don’t need to kneel.”

Harklight rises at Slaine’s comment, but Slaine can’t look at him. His gaze is far off, staring into the darkness somewhere beyond Harklight. “Please, just…” Slaine trails off, shaking his head. “Why, Harklight? Why can you follow me so whole-heartedly?”

“I placed my trust in you a long time ago.” He squeezes Slaine’s hand, but Slaine doesn’t react at all. “Lemrina and I… we both did.”

He lets go of Slaine’s hand, and instinctively, he rests them behind his back (like any good servant would). “You should go see her tomorrow, Slaine.”

“Lemrina?”

Harklight nods. “She misses her fiancé.”

Guilt mars Slaine’s expression, but he still doesn’t meet Harklight’s gaze. “I was a fool to propose such a thing. She’s too much like me, looking for what she’ll never find.”

“Slaine?”

“She wants somewhere she can call home. I cannot provide that for her.” Finally, finally, Slaine stares him in the eye, his gaze so filled with anguish that Harklight can’t help but avert his eyes. “I have never known one either.”

Slaine’s words echo repeatedly in Harklight’s mind that night as he tries to sleep. Nowhere to call home… even Harklight had that.

It’s foolish, thinking of missing such a simple thing in the midst of war. A lack of home is far from being important when too much goes wrong as it is.

And as if fate mocks them, Slaine visits Princess Lemrina the next day and leaves with two princesses in custody.

The next day, Count Cruhteo arrives at the Moon Base.

Harklight and Slaine watch the unexpected guest direct his craft into the docks, neither saying anything. Slaine’s posture is tense, has been since the moment the name Count Cruhteo was mentioned.

It is not the Count Cruhteo Slaine fears; Slaine and Harklight both know it. But Klancain… Harklight’s heard of him. Extremely loyal to the emperor, much like his father, and a manipulative man beyond that.  He didn’t comment on Slaine’s ascent to Count and engagement to “Princess Asseylum,” but Harklight has a feeling it’s probably better that way. Klancain has the good Crutheo name, and a great number of people respect him for it.

If he were to express dissent towards Slaine, it would undermine their cause greatly.

Slaine expresses as much when they discuss the issue. “Those who have not yet submitted to me are essentially loyalists. If we can sway him over to our camp, it would be possible to get them all to change sides at once.”

“Indeed,” Harklight agrees. There’s only one problem with Slaine’s plan, one Slaine beats him to voicing.

“The question, though, is whether he is a man who can be trusted.”

They set off together, Slaine to get prepared for his meeting and Harklight to greet Count Klancain, who waits already for them. Slaine keeps staring out into space and back at Harklight, over and over until he starts making Harklight nervous. Harklight can hardly blame him though.

Klancain may not be his father, but how could he possibly be fond of Slaine? If it weren’t for Slaine… Count Cruhteo would have been alive. The Tharsis could have been Klancain’s in due time.

With a quiet goodbye, Slaine soon disappears in the depths of his castle, leaving Harklight to face the enigma of a count.

He prays there will be no hostilities.

But to Harklight’s amazement, Klancain waves in greeting. And when Harklight reaches his hand out to shake, Klancain takes it with vigor.

“Ah, you must be Count Troyard’s… knight? Sir Escalus, are you now?”

Harklight nods, flexing his finally-free hand to restore feeling to it (Klancain grips hard).  “Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Count Crutheo.”

“Count Klancain’s fine.” His bright eyes narrow as they scan Harklight, cold and calculating. “You don’t look much like a knight.”

“There’s not been time to tailor a knight’s uniform for me. The war has kept us busy here.”

“I see.” Klancain’s expression brightens, but there’s something false about it. Harklight suppresses the chills rippling down his spine. Klancain is as the rumors portray him, he supposes. Nice enough man on the surface, but hiding an analytical mind that makes his a formidable threat. “So, I presume you’re here to take me to Count Troyard?”

“Yes. Ordinarily, Princess Asseylum would meet you too, but she’s not feeling her best today.”

“Really? What a shame.” Klancain doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, Harklight swears his lips curl up in the slightest of smirks. “Well, show me the way, Harklight. I’m most eager to meet him.”

Klancain tries to keep a conversation going while they walk, but Harklight answers in as many one-word answers as he can. His words won’t be turned against him if he can help it.

But too soon, he leaves Klancain to Slaine. He returns to the command center, just in time for the first alarms to resound.

Harklight approaches the nearest soldier and asks, “What’s the problem?”

“We’ve noticed unusual behavior in some of the rock clusters, suggesting objects of different mass behind them, sir.”

Harklight lets out a sigh. “Send messages to the Stygis Squadron and Count Barouhcruz to ready themselves. We will have to go on defense.”

“Are you going to stay here and command, sir?”

“Give Count Troyard a few minutes. If he doesn’t show up, I will. And oh, one more thing. Please tell the princesses to move to the landing port. It will be safer there.”

The other soldiers do as he commands, leaving him nothing to do but wait for Slaine. Slaine shows up in due time, Klancain close behind. But to Harklight’s dismay, the orders he gives leave little for Harklight to do. “Take Klancain to a safe location.”

Harklight doesn’t miss the irritation flash across Klancain’s eyes as he leads him to the back of the Moon Base, right by the dock his ship resides. And when Harklight finally gets him settled, Klancain doesn’t offer so much as a thank you.

They part with brief nods, but Harklight has the oddest feeling he’ll never see the man in person again.

When he returns to the command center, the infiltration has just begun. It’s easy, falling into position as Slaine’s right hand man and issuing orders as necessary. But too soon, even that ends.

Count Barouhcruz arrives in the Octantis, eager with the thought of war. “Count Troyard, your loyal servant Barouhcruz has rushed over to provide assistance!”

Despite their past misgivings, Slaine manages a smile at Count Barouhcruz’s show of loyalty. “Ah, you have come. You have my thanks. I will also send Harklight to your location.”

Harklight nods, heart pounding. For the first time, he will take to the field of combat. He clenches his fists at the thought, trying to keep his breath steady.

This will be fine. He will not die.

He will make Slaine proud he ever chose Harklight to be his knight.

He leaves in a hurry, rushing towards the launch dock where his Herschel awaits.

But when he reaches the dock, a soldier catches him by the arm. “Sir Escalus!”

Harklight whirls around, raising his other arm as a precaution. But at the sight of the soldier, he forces himself to calm down. It’s just a soldier, one with a gray uniform draped over his arm.

Harklight’s uniform.

“I have your uniform, sir.”

Harklight nods, a faint smile crossing his serious countenance. “Thank you.” And once more, he takes off, this time to find a quiet room in which to change.

He slips into the knight’s uniform easily. It’s tailored perfectly, made of finer material than he’s ever worn in his life. If it weren’t for the circumstances, he might have taken the time to admire its craftsmanship or awe at how incredible it was to call such finery his own.

But today, all he has time to do is spare a quick glance in the reflective metal wall of the dock and move on. He returns to the Herschel, the dock cleared out to allow him proper room for launch. To his amazement, a number of soldiers line the catwalks, watching with smiles.

“Good hunting, Sir Escalus!” One of the younger soldiers shoulders out, grinning a rather crooked smile. A few more join in with their well wishes, but the young man cuts them off. “We’ll be cheering for you!”

He raises his hand in salute, and one by one, the others follow. Harklight stands frozen. Why are they saluting him? He is only a knight, and a rather new one at that, undistinguished on the battlefield.

Count Barouhcruz’s words come to mind once more. _You’re the people’s man, a third-class citizen who rose to marvelous heights. The servant who’s masterminded a new era for Vers._

Maybe, just maybe, they were not lies.

Harklight lifts a hand in thanks, allowing himself to smile. They cheer, but he does not stay to listen. Instead, he opens the cockpit of the Heschel and locks himself inside.

There’s no time left to waste. Count Barouhcruz awaits him.

“Awaken,” he announces, and the whole system comes to life beneath his hands.

This is it. He cannot pretend to be a servant any longer.

He leaves the dock as Sir Harklight Escalus, ready to face the war beyond.

As he reaches Count Barouhcruz, the latter reels back the monofilament wire around his electromagnetic bobbins. And the moment Count Barouhcruz notices Harklight, he launches into his prideful explanations. “Ultra-high-tension monofilament wire spooled around a superconducting electromagnetic bobbin. There is nothing this blade cannot cut through!”

His moment of pride vanishes when he catches Harklight’s disinterest.  The grin fades from his face, his tone serious once more as he orders, “You see to the rats in the area, Sir Harklight.”

Harklight adjusts the collar of his coat; it itches against his throat. “Consider it done.”

Without another thought, he releases the mobile guns and dives into action. This is the moment of truth, fighting for his noble cause.

The UFE Kataphraktoi surge forward in front of him, but he trains his guns on them. Both sides fire, and Harklight can’t spare a minute to see if his shots land. He dodges the bullets as best he can; the closest only manage to leave light scratches in the paint.

But too soon, Harklight has to withdraw from the thick of fighting. One of the soldiers from the command center speaks through the comm, “Sir, we’re registering gunshot damage in the hanger. It appears to be a firefight of sorts.”

“Deal with it yourself,” he snaps, eyes still watching the monitors closely. “I cannot spare too much more time out here before the UFE surge once more.”

“But sir, Princess Asseylum’s there!”

That gets Harklight’s attention. “Princess Asseylum?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll communicate it right away to Count Troyard.” He does as asked, but he cannot completely avoid battle. As he speaks, he’s forced to dodge bullets. And before Slaine can ask many questions, Harklight turns to the offensive once more.

The UFE soldiers swarm him and Count Barouhcruz, but they stand no chance. Together, Harklight and the count make a formidable pair. Harklight’s mobile guns surround the Kataphraktoi from all sides, firing enough to be a nuisance at the least and deadly at worst, and Count Barouhcruz uses his wires to wrap their enemies in a deadly embrace.

One by one, they take out the kataphraktoi. Count Barouhcruz grows ever more enthusiastic with each kill, but Harklight focuses on the field. _Select target, fire, repeat. Select target, fire, repeat. Select target, fire repeat._

He doesn’t stop until the UFE forces start their retreat. But as he struggles to catch his breath, Count Barouhcruz boasts, “Not bad for your first time, Sir Harklight. You will certainly be a worthy successor to the Herschel.”

Harklight gasps out a thanks, but there is little time for pleasantries. Already, the command center calls them back to the Moon Base.

And when he finally returns to the commander center, Slaine is nowhere to be found. Harklight sits down at one of the empty computers and watches the radar. Nothing but the few Versian forces hovering outside the base register.

He tries not to think. If he does, he’ll think of the lives he helped end.

How could Slaine have lived with himself after fighting on the battlefield for all these years? How could he, a child for how many of those years, bear such a heavy burden? How could…

He justified it all for her, just as Harklight will surely justify it as being for their –his and Slaine’s and Lemrina’s– dream.  That is the only way he could have ever coped.

Slaine returns soon enough, clenching a silver chain and pendant in his fist. But there’s something about him, something about his beautiful, beautiful eyes that leaves Harklight worrying.

Slaine’s gaze has never been so cold.

Blips come from the radar, and he glances down, noticing the new signatures appearing. _UFE forces._ Harklight gets up and joins Slaine, taking care to stand one step behind him. “Milord, the UFE has begun to mass its forces. What shall we do about them?”

Slaine’s eyes flutter shut, but his voice betrays his iciness. “This changes nothing. Launch all forces and intercept the UFE.” He turns to face Harklight, that cruel gaze meeting Harklight’s eyes. Only careful self-control keeps him from looking away. “In the meantime, we will request the assistance of the Orbital Knights who back us.”

“Assistance, Milord?” He cannot understand. They have enough soldiers on the Moon Base to provide a suitable fight force; why would they need more?

Slaine lifts his head, speaking words that Harklight could have never expected from such a kind man. ‘We will launch an all-out offensive against the entire Earth.”

Harklight can’t keep the horror off his face. All-out offensive? Destroying Earth’s resources, killing millions of people? For what? It cannot accomplish his dreams. Harklight and Slaine… they would leave so much hatred, so many people suffering like those suffered on Vers…

Can that be worth it?

“They will know how it feels to have nowhere to go home to.” As Slaine’s eyes narrow in white-hot fury, Harklight’s heart pounds.

This isn’t about dreams or futures anymore. Despite his noble words, it’s nothing more than the revenge of a boy wronged by the world, exacting his punishment without discretion.

What would break first, Harklight had once wondered, the boy or the walls between them?

At last, he has his answer.  Slaine cracks under the weight of his burdens until there’s hardly anything left of the man Harklight thought he knew, the man he still longs to know.

In his heart, Harklight knows Slaine’s horribly, horribly wrong. This isn’t what he wants, not in the slightest.  

Harklight should say no, beg Slaine to reconsider his options. That’s his duty; it always has been. Watch out for Slaine, try to keep him content.

But now, there’s no longer black and white or right and wrong. There’s only duty- to Slaine, to his family, to Vers, _to himself._

Leaving Terrans nowhere to go home to, all-out offensive- Harklight doesn’t want either. He never has. But for Vers…

No, for Slaine.

If that is what Slaine wishes… Harklight made his vow long ago.

_Make Slaine happy._

If this is the world Slaine longs to see, then Harklight will make it reality. “As you wish, Slaine.”

“Then you’ll return to the battlefield with Count Barouhcruz and the Stygis Squadron. I’ll address the Orbital Knights as soon as the fighting begins.”

Harklight bows and takes his leave, but he cannot keep the frown off his face. Fighting once more… This time, it won’t just been the few of them. As they slaughter enemies in space, the azure world beneath them will stain scarlet too.

Fire, blood, death…

There’s no turning back.

Harklight slips in the Herschel without so much as a word to Count Barouhcruz or the Stygis Squadron. They do not need orders to know what must be done. One by one, they follow, leaping in the fray once more.

“Sir Escalus.” A screen pops up as Harklight fights, revealing the Stygis Squadron’s leader, Lorelei. The stern brunette stares at him with her piercing gaze, but her voice stays level. “Enemies approach from our left flank.”

“On it.” Harklight changes course, even though it takes him through the thick of gunfire. He dodges as best he can, releasing his mobile guns once more. “My servants, wipe them out!”

The mobile guns fire at the targets, and the kataphraktoi before him explode into brilliant flames. He barely gets a chance to admire his work before Lorelei’s face melts to a more familiar one.

Slaine speaks of war and offensives, and he throw out his hand (just like Count Saazbaum used to) to order hell and…

Princess Asseylum interrupts his broadcast.

Harklight can only watch in utter dismay. Even before he hears her demands, he knows. This is the end. No matter what she desires, Slaine will give her it.

Because in the end, Slaine would give anything if it meant his princess would be happy.

Isn’t that how he justified his actions once she awoke?

When the Princess Asseylum finally finishes her speech, Count Barouhcruz breaks the silence. “What is the meaning of this?! Sir Harklight, we’re returning to base!”

Harklight should explain the deceit, tell him the princess he met was nothing more than an imposter, but he cannot. There is too much to say, too many words to hear. In the end, he just follows Count Barouhcruz’s command without response, moving on autopilot. It’s over. Everything Harklight dreamed of, it’s all been snatched away in a single instant.

If he keeps dreaming, he will be branded a traitor. If he gives up, there’s nothing left but failure. Either way, he’ll never reach at least one of his dreams.

If he doesn’t fight, the third class will continue to suffer. And if he does… could Slaine ever be happy if his princess hated him?

Slaine… What does Slaine think now, now that fate’s given him the cruelest choice? “Slaine…” he breathes, but only Count Barouhcruz hears.

They land in the dock just as Slaine and Lemrina arrive. As the worker greets him, Harklight issues a simple command, “Rearm it.”

Count Barouhcruz shoots Harklight a confused glance, but Harklight doesn’t bother to elaborate. He would rather be prepared.

Though he’s fairly certain about Slaine’s decision, Harklight has long since lost the ability to understand his former master.

Of course, Count Barouhcruz leaps down first with his harsh words. Harklight follows a little behind, trying to delay the inevitable. When Slaine speaks next…

Slaine confirms his fears.

Ten minutes to clear the Moon Base and surrender.

Count Barouhcruz shouts and Slaine offers apologizes to Lemrina, but all Harklight can do is return to Slaine’s side. He places his hands on Lemrina’s shoulders, holding her back even when Slaine leaves her behind.

Until Slaine disappears, she screams out his name, over and over until her voice gives out. Harklight guides her to the nearest shuttle, but she finally turns her fury on him. “Don’t make me do this, Harklight! Let me go back to Slaine!”

She puts on a real struggle, squirming in his relentless grip, but he cannot let her go. “You can’t. Slaine wants you to surrender.”

“But he’s… I won’t go unless he goes!” Tears flood down her cheeks, uglier than any smirk or scowl she’s ever worn. “Why won’t he come with us?”

“He… Lemrina…”

“He’s going to take himself out with the base, isn’t he?” Her voice rises to an unbearable screech, and he can’t stop himself from flinching. “Let me go back to him, Harklight! Harklight, please, I can’t let him die alone!”

But another soldier takes her out of Harklight’s grip, expression grave. “You deserve to live,” Harklight whispers. And as the door shuts behind Lemrina, the last sight he gets of her is betrayal, shining through her tears.

It stings more than he could have ever imagined.

While the other soldiers get into shuttles, Harklight turns the opposite way. It’s hypocritical, refusing Lemrina’s request to do it himself. But he cannot stop himself, not now.

If nothing else, he has to see Slaine one last time.

He catches up to Slaine in one of the main hallways, where the windows are wide enough to see the whole expanse of stars. Crimson explosions blossom between them, signs of the few soldiers still fighting. Slaine stands with one hand pressed against the window, his gaze lost in the view.

“Slaine…”

Slaine whirls around, eyes widening in horror. “Harklight? What are you doing here? I thought… I thought I told you to leave!”

“I know you won’t change your mind, no matter what I say.” Slaine expression softens, and for a minute, Harklight swears he almost looks guilty. “But please, at least come with us.”

Slaine’s expression contorts, the guilt unmistakable now. “I can’t.”

“Then at least let me stay with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Slaine shakes his head. “It’s my sin, not yours. You deserve to live.”

“And you don’t?” Harklight’s voice cracks, but he cannot stay silent. “This whole time, I’ve served by you. If you have sinned, then let me carry the burden beside you. I am no better than you.”

“You are, Harklight, more than you’ll ever know.” Slaine sighs, his hands tightening into fists. “I won’t say this again, Harklight. Go back and surrender.”

Every instinct tells Harklight to obey, but he ignores them and stands his ground. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I will force you to.”

Harklight takes one look in Slaine’s eyes (even now, blazing with fury, they’re still beautiful) and gives in. There’s no point arguing, not when this will be their last meeting. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Slaine’s eyes shine with an earnest conviction Harklight hasn’t seen a long time, and for a moment, it’s as if Knight Slaine’s returned. “Please, Harklight, leave me to my peace.”

Though Harklight cannot explain it, he steps forward and wraps Slaine in his arms. Slaine stiffens under his touch, but he doesn’t resist. “This isn’t the end.” Tears prickle the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t dare let them fall. “Wait for me in hell, Slaine.”

To his shock, Slaine buries his face into Harklight’s shoulder and returns the hug. “I never deserved a servant like you.”

Harklight should lean down, kiss the tears away from Slaine’s eyes, and promise everything will be okay. He should press a gentle kiss against those soft lips, or maybe even murmur nothings in Slaine’s ear. There’s a lot of things he should do.

But in the end, he’s nothing more than a coward. What kind of fool falls in love with a man who gave his heart away too long ago? Even Lemrina couldn’t see her affections returned, even as she laid her heart and soul on a silver platter and offered it up to Slaine.

No, he doesn’t kiss Slaine or even wipe away his tears.

In the end, Harklight lets Slaine go without another word. But as he turns to leave, he glances back over his shoulder one last time. Slaine gives his final smile, rueful but relieved, as his fists unclench. The silver pendant dangles down from his fingers, catching the limited light.

Slaine told him about that pendant once, back when he used to turn to Harklight in the middle of the night for comfort. _All I had left of my father was a pendant,_ he had said, tears in his eyes, _but I gave it to Princess Asseylum for good luck on Earth. When I found her, she didn’t have it anymore. It’s probably lost on Earth somewhere where I’ll never see it again._

Harklight pushes the memory out of his mind. There’s no point in remembering little moments anymore. But when he finally turns away, he can’t hide the tears streaming down his cheeks. “No matter what happens now, I couldn’t have asked for a better master.”

Though he tries to ignore it, Harklight knows, deep within his heart, that they will never meet again in person.

They go their separate ways, Slaine towards the command center, Harklight towards the dock.

And when Harklight arrives at the Herschel, all his tears have dried. There’s no use crying anymore.

Without Slaine around to give him orders, Harklight can forge his own path.

He starts the Herschel, joining Count Barouhcruz once more. For once, the count is quiet. “Sorry for the delay, Count Barouhcruz.”

“It is no matter.” He sighs, and Harklight can imagine the count slumping in the cockpit. “Hell of a day, isn’t it? Who’d have thought things would end like this?”

Harklight doesn’t respond. Soon enough, the order for launch comes, and he follows dutifully. He tries not to think, tries not to look back.

If he looks back, he won’t be able to follow orders anymore.

Explosions register behind him, and Harklight bites his cheek so hard his mouth bleeds. Slaine’s made his decision. Slaine will hate him if he disobeys him now. Slaine will...

But in that moment, Harklight disregards his objections.

_This is what must be done._

Harklight turns the Heschel around and returns for Slaine.

Far off, Lorelei cries his name, but he ignores her.

_This is what must be done_.

“Harklight.” Slaine’s voice crackles over the comm. “What are you doing? Turn back. I thought I ordered you to surrender.”

Harklight does not respond. Slaine’s pretty little words are meaningless now.

Sometimes, orders must be disobeyed to do what’s right (to do what his heart desires).

“Harklight.”

_This is what must be done_.

Vaguely, he registers the Stygis Squadron, one after another, turn back too.

Do they understand why he has turned back? Do they think he is so committed to Slaine’s dreams that he would throw his life away?

Do they wish to do the same?

“Stygis Squadron, don’t attack without orders!” Harklight could laugh at Barouhcruz’s loyalty. What kind of honor was there in blindly following instructions?

Harklight had once been content to do just that.

“Don’t! We no longer have any hope of winning! Don’t throw your lives away!” Slaine pleads now, but it’s far too late for that.

Harklight made his decision long ago, back before he tried redefining his dreams.

_Save the third-class citizens and make Slaine happy._

He threw away his chance at the first the minute he accepted Slaine as his master.

And as for the latter…

“I made my peace with death long ago, Milord.”

There is no way to make Slaine happy now. His dreams have slipped him by, and Harklight has nothing left but one simple wish.

_If I cannot live with you, then I shall die beside you._

_This is what must be done._

“Please allow me this one selfish act.”

“Surrender, Harklight!” At the desperation in Slaine’s voice, Harklight almost wavers. Slaine still cares for him, enough to beg him to live.

If only Harklight still clung to life enough to listen.

“I beg your pardon, Slaine, but I cannot comply with that order.”

There is no life without Slaine, no life without the one he…

The one he loves.

Slaine may never return the sentiment; he had his princesses to adore. But even as his world falls apart, Harklight will cling to his one last desire.

_Whatever fate awaits Slaine will await me too_.

He leaps into the fray without another look back. He does not care to know if Slaine will follow him, or if he will even understand.

Something tells him Slaine never saw beyond Harklight’s devotion.

One by one, he directs his mobile guns at the UFE kataphraktoi. There’s no satisfaction in watching them explode one after the other.

There is no goal worth pursuing, no reason to fight anymore.

Harklight fires the guns again and again, but a familiar voice breaks him out of his trance. “Sir Harklight, what are our orders?”

Lorelei, after pleading with him, returned to fight beside him, returned for _him._ Did she love him?

No, he chastises himself. Not everyone falls in love with their superior.

“Try to attack the kataphraktoi from all sides! If you can isolate individuals, it will be easier to finish them off.”

He sends them to a worthless battle, but they obey without hesitation. Piped surprise echoes over the comm, Count Barouhcruz without a doubt.

Harklight prays the Count will stay beside Princess Lemrina. Of any, he could protect her with his relative innocence. He just followed orders, not plotting and lying and murdering like Slaine and Harklight.

Once, Harklight had glared at him relentlessly. Now, there’s nothing left but pity. Another victim of Aldnoah, Slaine might have said.

Another victim of Vers, Harklight knows now.

A streak of blue crosses Harklight’s vision, and for a moment, Harklight cannot breathe. After everything, all the chastising and begging, Slaine joined him on the battlefield.

But in a single flash of orange, all his hopes collapse.

Slaine did not fight to die beside him.

He fought to kill Kaizuka Inaho.

Harklight bites his damaged cheek harder, but he does not stop fighting. He made his choice a long time ago. But as drones explode nearby, it doesn’t stop his guilt. Maybe, if he had just followed orders, he wouldn’t be responsible for…

He cannot think about the deaths happening around him.

After all that’s surpassed, what’s one more to him?

He controls his mobile guns with icy precision. The kataphraktoi dodge as best they can, but he hardly gives them a moment’s respite as he flies through their remains.

The kataphraktos on his tail proves more troublesome. An anchor fires towards him, and he’s left with no choice but to face it. He fires, again and again, but the pilot’s bright too, firing shots back at the guns. Though most of the shots miss, a few of his guns explode.

He can barely think beyond the relentless fire; he has to keep moving, keep fighting.

He cannot die yet.

Blue-violet lines streak across his sight, and the threat dissipates with brilliant orange fire. Harklight gasps, shocked at the kataphraktos lingering in his periphery. The Octantis retracts its wires with finesse as Count Barouhcruz’s voice still rings prideful over the comm. “Barouhcruz, member of the Orbital Knights 37 Clans! Do you mind if I cut it?”

Maybe in another life, Harklight might have found the pun amusing. But in the midst of battle, he scoffs the Count’s foolishness. How could such a self-centered man return to the battlefield to die? He is nothing like the rest of them, nothing like Harklight. He does not have anything to gain by the sliver of hope the others fight for; Slaine’s dreams have no benefit to him and never have.

He has no ties to Slaine to want to die beside him.

Still, the show of loyalty brings a smile to Harklight’s lips. “Count Barouhcruz.” He cannot express his gratitude towards the count enough. After everything, after all they’ve been through, to die together is one last gift.

Slaine’s vision drew them together one last time to meet death, side by side.

Even if Slaine abandoned him, Harklight will not die alone.

He forces his attention back to the battle, but it’s far too late. The Deucalion’s catapult arm swings down, and there’s no time to dodge. It hits him dead on, shaking the kataphraktos frame to his very core. For a moment, he’s rendered useless by the shock.

He cannot afford a moment of nothingness.

Too soon, too soon for his shaken body, he forces the Herschel to avoid shots. One still strikes an arm, but he’s back in action, firing his mobile gun at the grey kataphraktos in front of him. The enemy dodges, but Harklight cannot relent, not when Count Barouhcruz still persists at his side.

But to his dismay, the count struggles too. He lashes out again and again with his wires, but the enemy surrounds him and fires.

In his moment of distraction, another shot lands on the Herschel, and he’s sent crashing into the Octantis. He scowls, but there’s nothing left he can do. This isn’t going how he wanted at all.

There is no Slaine by his side. His mobile guns do not land the necessary strikes. He’s lost an arm to the enemy, making defense in close quarters nearly impossible. Warnings sign flash scarlet around him, but there’s no way to end this fight.

He cannot take much more damage and survive.

“Sir Harklight!” The worry in Barouhcruz’s voice is almost touching. Maybe in a different life, Harklight might have been delighted the count cared for him.

A different life, huh.

What Harklight wouldn’t give for that now.

All too soon, Barouhcruz drags his damaged frame away, even as Harklight’s drones continue to fire at the enemy. The enemy destroys a few more, but he hardly has the heart to care.

Behind the rocks, Barouhcruz assaults him with concern. “Are you alright?” The count’s face blinks in on one of the holographic screens, dark bags under his eyes. Harklight’s sure he looks much the same. Battle weighs heavily upon them, damaged as they are.

“Yes, I only lost an arm.” He does not speak of the other damages, the pain of Slaine leaving him to die alone, the agony of hopes shattering. He will carry those to the grave with his unrequited love.

“Sir Harklight!” This time, it’s Lorelei who appears on a holographic screen, her stern face lined with grief. How many of her comrades have died at the hands of the Terrans? How many died because they followed Harklight’s foolish desires?

Despite his reluctance to know, Harklight finds the strength within him to ask, “Battle status?”

“Including myself, 3 Stygis masters remain, as well as some 6 slaves. The rest have been downed by the UFE.”

Harklight doesn’t need to know the names to figure out the death count. Too many good soldiers died following him, and he will bear the burden until the fight destroys him.

Was this how Slaine felt as Count?

“I have fired most of my bullets as well,” Harklight relents, as if admitting his own shortcomings will ease Lorelei’s losses. “Count Barouhcruz?”

He dreads to know, but Barouhcruz responds immediately. “The Octantis’s right arm is non-functional. It must have been damaged in that last attack.”

_Harklight’s_ attack, he doesn’t say, but they both know. If the Heschel hadn’t crashed into the Octantis, it might have been in proper working condition. Maybe, just maybe, Barouhcruz might have stood a better chance at living.

“Those Terran warriors are not without skill.” The words stun Harklight. Arrogant Barouhcruz, always too proud to admit his short-sight until proven utterly wrong, speaking words of praise seem impossible. Then again, these are impossible times.

Slaine’s visions have collapsed. The supposedly weak UFE wins their peace and bargaining rights. Vers’s people are left to suffer once more, and Harklight with them.

They have all failed their duties, their last act of insubordination taking them to the grave.

The thought brings a hopeless smile to Harklight’s lips. “Yes. It is Milord’s birthplace, after all.”

And they are just like Slaine, the UFE soldiers. They hold steadfast to their dreams without relenting, except when there is no way to win.

Barouhcruz bows his head with a defeated grin, repeating an old Versian saying Harklight hasn’t heard since he lived on Vers proper. “Do not try to fight an Olympian sandstorm, eh?”

He lifts his head up one last time, blue-green eyes (not unlike Slaine’s, Harklight realizes, but a little duller) shining with that old pride. Barouhcruz wears his smirk once more as he announces, “We seem to have misread the winds. Let’s have another go!”

Duty drives Harklight into an immediate response. “I shall join you.”

He made his choice years ago, the moment he vowed to serve Slaine.

_This is what must be done._

Slaine surely fights far away, but they will die together. They will meet again someday, when they have both left their cruel worlds behind, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll finally be at peace.

This time, it is Count Barouhcruz who leads. They ignore the kataphraktoi completely, rounding instead on the Deucalion. Harklight does not know what they can possibly do, but he readies his guns to fire their last rounds.

In those last moments, Harklight takes in the world around. Fiery explosions bloom around him as the drones go up in flames. Lorelei and Barouhcruz flicker on his screens, both focusing on the battle with unyielding determination. The stars shine bright behind the Deucalion, filled with a light that never shined down on him.

It’s beautiful, the world around him. The most horrible of beauties, something Slaine might have found poetic.

It should be a comforting sight, but despite everything, Harklight has never felt so alone.

Slaine is nowhere to be found. Dying at the hands of Kaizuka Inaho, Harklight likes to think. A beautiful death, fitting for Harklight’s one last affection.

Harklight wants to hate him for it, but he cannot.

In the end, all Harklight wants…

No, all Harklight needs…

He cannot find the words anymore.

The brilliant orange washes around him, consuming the stars, the kataphraktos, everything.

Harklight closes his eyes.

For a brief moment, the world shakes, awful booms all around him. The world rings, but everything falls to a deathly silence.

Around him, everything becomes numb.

This is the end of Harklight Escalus. There is no turning back now.

_Forgive me, Slaine._

And as the world turns to nothingness, Harklight whispers, “Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you weren't expecting a happy ending.
> 
> Harklight's tale was always a tragedy. He fought so hard for his dreams, for Slaine, and got them all snatched away in a heartbeat. Third-class citizen to knight, and in the end, he still could do nothing. 
> 
> Is there a happy ending beyond this? Who knows. Harklight's fate after Episode 24 has never been explicitly confirmed one way or the other, so it's still possible he's alive out there. Maybe someday, I'll finish writing a happy end for him (and not just more tragedies- bonus points to you if you thought the end reminded you of another fic of mine. [It should.](http://besthandwriting.tumblr.com/post/119127955409/fic-there-are-no-miracles)) but not today. My brain's fried from reading through and editing 10,000 words this morning.
> 
> Most importantly, thank you so much for reading and sticking with Toll for the Brave this whole time! I really appreciate all your kind comments and kudos; they always make me smile! Without you, this would have never ended up 46,000+ words. :)
> 
> And if you still have any questions, feel free to ask. I'd be glad to answer them or post my notes if you're particularly curious about some of the decisions I made (like Harklight's last name, age, etc.).


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